THE    PEACOCK    LIBRARY 

A  HOUSETOP  CAP 

||S  BY  f-. 

ALICE    S*  WOL 


Unl 


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U0  PACIFIC  A 


The  Peacock  Library 


A  House  of  Cards 


A  House  of  Cards 


BY 


ALICE    S.  WOLF 


CHICAGO 
STONE   &  KIMBALL 


M  DCCC  XCVI 


COPYRIGHT,    1896,    BY 
STONE   AND    KIMBALL 


TO    MY   MOTHER 


A   House   of  Cards. 


Chapter    I. 

IIKER  VAN  ARSDALE  drew  a  chair 
within  the  embrasured  club-window, 
and  let  his  gaze  wander  out  upon  the  mellow 
splendor  of  the  night. 

The  rooms  behind  him  wore  a  deserted  air. 
It  was  the  week  of  the  annual  shoot  of  the 
Country  Club  at  Del  Monte,  and  those  mem- 
bers who  were  in  town  had  not  yet  left  the 
dining-tables. 

Van  Arsdale  had  not  lingered  over  the  meal : 
he  had  chanced  to  dine  with  a  man  who  could 
not  forget  to  remember  who  he  was. 

Presently  his  solitude  was  invaded  by  a  man 
who  leaned  against  the  window-frame,  smiling 
down  upon  him. 

"  Poor  Van,"  began  the  new-comer,  "  I  won- 
der you  can  look  so  cheerful  after  that  irksome 


10  A   HOUSE   OF   CARDS. 

hour.  When  I  saw  you  cornered  by  Ives,  I 
pitied  you." 

"That  was  kind  of  you,  Kendall,"  com- 
mented the  older  man,  no  trace  of  sarcasm  in 
his  quiet  tones. 

"  Did  you  manage  to  pierce  the  brazen  wall 
of  his  ignorance?"  asked  Kendall,  with  gentle 
malice. 

He  was  a  broad-shouldered  man,  of  average 
height,  and  the  only  fault  Van  Arsdale  found 
with  his  face  was  that  it  was  too  handsome ;  but 
all  of  Gregory  Kendall's  faults  were  pleasant 
ones,  and  his  friends  willingly  adopted  an  easy 
attitude  toward  his  shortcomings. 

"  I  did  not  try  to  do  so.  I  found  his  self- 
sufficiency  refreshing  in  these  days  when  we 
are  all  inclined  to  thrust  the  analytical  scalpel 
under  our  every  thought  and  act." 

"At  any  rate,  you  must  have  been  bored." 

"You  forget:  I  am  never  bored,"  corrected 
Van  Arsdale. 

"Well,  it  bores  me  to  dine  here,"  volun- 
teered Kendall.  "  I  came  to-night  only  be- 
cause I  promised  to  dine  with  my  father  before 
he  starts  for  Carlsbad.  All  they  do  here  is  to 
eat  and  gamble." 

A  pause  ensued,  in  which  Van  Arsdale  con- 


A   HOUSE   OF   CARDS.  II 

tinued  to  look  across  at  the  shadowy  plaza,  and 
Kendall  twisted  his  mustache  ruthlessly.  At 
length  Van  Arsdale  spoke ;  his  eyes  were  still 
fixed  upon  the  wavering  trees. 

"You  were  going  to  speak  to  me  of — " 

"  Don't  be  clairvoyant  to-night.  I  shall 
reach  my  point  soon  enough.  It  would  be 
easier  to  speak  if  I  did  not  stand  in  fear  of 
your  verdict.  You  know  you  have  a  truly 
reprehensible,  inconsiderate  habit  of  telling  the 
truth." 

Van  Arsdale's  acute  ears  detected  the  note 
of  nervousness  in  the  light  words. 

"  I  may  have  an  inconvenient  love  for  the 
truth,  but  I  realize  it  is  much  too  sacred  to  be 
tampered  with  ordinarily.  I  indulge  in  it  only 
on  those  occasions  when,  at  all  hazards,  I  must 
be  disbelieved.  Now  that  you  have  warned 
me,  I  promise  to  be  discreet.  I  shall  slake 
your  unconquerable  thirst  for  sympathy,  and 
advise  only  those  things  I  shall  see  you  are 
determined  to  do.  It  is  always  gratifying  to 
see  one's  counsel  followed." 

To  give  Kendall  an  opportunity  to  collect 
himself,  Van  Arsdale  had  spoken  at  greater 
length  than  was  his  wont. 

He  was  an  habitually  taciturn  man ;  yet  when 


12  A    HOUSE   OF   CARDS. 

people  presumed  upon  him  they  were  apt  to 
discover  that  his  wit  was  singularly  poignant, 
though  hidden  under  a  quiet  exterior :  he 
could  utter  very  disagreeable  truths  in  his 
calmly  courteous  way.  But  he  was  most  trying 
when  he  said  nothing,  merely  looking  through 
his  companion,  at  the  back  of  his  chair.  Men 
invariably  liked  him,  and  thought  he  might  be 
attractive  to  women  if  he  only  permitted  his 
face  to  show  more  interest  in  them.  Women 
admired  him,  —  at  a  distance  generally,  for  he 
cared  little  for  their  society.  His  friends  were 
intimate  with  Van  Arsdale ;  Van  Arsdale  was 
intimate  with  no  one.  Gregory  Kendall  rightly 
or  wrongly  imagined  himself  one  of  his  most 
intimate  friends,  and  it  cost  a  great  deal  to  be 
Kendall's  friend.  He  usually  opened  an  ac- 
count about  which  there  was  no  reciprocity. 

Van  Arsdale,  in  his  position  as  manager  of 
a  large  insurance  company,  had  found  it  possi- 
ble to  assist  Kendall  in  his  career  of  the  law, 
and  he  became  accustomed  to  helping  him  in 
other  ways.  He  had  long  since  discovered 
that  doing  a  man  one  kindness  leaves  you  open 
to  his  importunities  on  all  occasions,  and  that 
gratitude  is  only  "a  lively  sense  of  future 
favors." 


A   HOUSE   OF    CARDS.  13 

"Well,"  commenced  Kendall,  half-tremu- 
lously,  half-defiantly,  "  I  hope  your  advice  will 
coincide  with  my  views,  for  even  if  it  does  not, 
I  intend  —  " 

"This  is  novel,"  interposed  Van  Arsdale, 
throwing  his  hands  about  his  head.  "  There  is 
not  even  a  feint  of  humility  about  you ;  and 
usually  we  confessors  are  beguiled  by  the  out- 
ward meekness  of  those  who  approach  us. 
Proceed  with  your  piquant  confidences." 

With  most  of  his  little  world,  Kendall  stood 
in  wholesome  fear  of  Van  Arsdale's  censure. 
He  had  always  felt  proud  of  the  friendship, 
and  now  he  found  it  difficult  to  frame  his 
sentences. 

"  I  am  going  to  be  married,"  he  finally  an- 
nounced, in  a  tone  at  once  combative  and 
appealing. 

"  Yes?  "  murmured  Van  Arsdale,  his  inscru- 
table face  betraying  no  emotion  of  any  kind. 
It  was  a  face  of  which  one  never  gained  a  clear 
impression,  although  the  features  were  sharply 
cut.  A  more  observant  man  than  Kendall 
might  have  noticed  that  his  eyes  narrowed 
unpleasantly,  and  that  his  mouth  grew  a  trifle 
more  set  and  stern. 

"You   might   say   something,"    broke    forth 


14  A    HOUSE    OF   CARDS. 

Kendall,  "  instead  of  looking  the  embodiment 
of  virtuous  disapproval." 

"  I  really  beg  pardon.  You  see  I  did  not 
know  what  you  expected  me  to  say.  It  was 
very  remiss,  but  it  is  not  too  late  to  hope  you 
will  know  all  happiness."  He  did  not  unclasp 
his  hands  from  about  his  head.  "When  do 
you  get  married?  " 

Kendall's  handsome  face  turned  a  shade 
whiter. 

"  What  a  fool  you  make  a  man  look  !  Possibly 
I  should  have  said  I  intend  to  get  married  if 
Miss  Yerrington  will  have  me." 

"  Perhaps  it  would  have  been  a  more  con- 
servative measure,  if  you  are  not  yet  en- 
gaged," assented  Van  Arsdale,  in  his  unhur- 
ried tones. 

"I  do  not  know  why  I  am  annoying  you 
with  the  matter,  for  I  think  that  in  my  heart 
I  realize  she  will  not  have  me,"  proceeded 
Kendall.  "She  is  a  great  deal  too  good  for 
me." 

"  Of  course,"  granted  Van  Arsdale. 

Kendall  laughed  shortly.  "Yes,  I  suppose 
they  all  say  that.  Well,  I  am  not  disheartened, 
although  Loys  has  been  refusing  me  ever  since 
I  was  twenty-six,  and  that  was  five  years  ago. 


A   HOUSE   OF   CARDS.  15 

I  tell  her  that  some  day  she  will  grow  so  weary 
of  saying  '  No,'  that  she  will  change  it  into  a 
'Yes.'" 

"  Did  Miss  Yerrington  go  to  the  Yosemite,  as 
she  had  planned?"  queried  Van  Arsdale,  with 
a  courteous  show  of  interest. 

"  If  you  remember,  she  said  she  had  little 
hope  of  it,"  prompted  Kendall,  "and  the  little 
she  had  died  an  untimely  death.  She  went  to 
the  farm,  and  is  passing  an  interminable  vaca- 
tion." 

"  No  doubt  she  will  find  time  for  a  great 
deal  of  writing,  and  she  must  need  the  perfect 
rest." 

"  One  would  not  choose  the  Yerrington  farm 
as  a  haven  of  rest ;  and  she  is  nursing  her  father 
through  a  fever.  She  will  return  wan  and  ex- 
hausted. She  is  occupied  from  early  morning 
until  late  at  night,  and  the  hopeless  dreariness  of 
the  life  is  maddening  to  her." 

"  I  understood  that  Mr.  Yerrington  was  a 
man  of  wealth." 

"  His  place  adjoins  ours,  so  I  know  the  length 
and  breadth  of  his  possessions :  the  land  he 
owns  is  worth  over  one  hundred  thousand 
dollars,"  returned  Kendall ;  "  but  of  money  he 
has  none.  Whatever  he  clears  is  invested  in 


l6  A    HOUSE   OF   CARDS. 

new  purchases  of  land,  so  the  money  Loys 
sends  him  every  month  is  more  than  welcome. 
I  am  counting  on  all  this  to  win  for  me  in  the 
end,"  he  concluded  frankly. 

Van  Arsdale  volunteered  no  remark. 

"What  was  your  impression  of  Loys?  " 

"  That  she  is  not  a  woman  one  can  sum  up 
and  dismiss  in  an  epigram,  and  I  have  met  her 
but  the  once,"  Van  Arsdale  reminded.  "  And 
perhaps,  even  were  I  tempted  to  tell  you  what  I 
think  of  her,  I  should  refrain,  for  I  realize  that 
my  opinion  must  be  biased.  It  is  impossible 
not  to  be  prejudiced  against  one  who  unkindly 
thinks  that  I  remind  her  of  a  lead-pencil,  with 
a  rubber  at  the  end  of  it." 

The  suspicion  of  a  smile  curved  his  lips. 
He  thought  he  had  never  heard  a  briefer,  more 
exact  description  of  his  appearance,  and  he 
appreciated  the  discernment  of  the  woman  who 
had  made  it. 

Kendall  laughingly  eyed  the  long,  gaunt 
figure  of  his  friend.  "  I  should  not  have  re- 
peated her  words;  but  when  you  seemed  so 
curious  to  learn  what  she  had  said,  and  plainly 
fancied  you  were  to  hear  some  critical  analysis 
of  your  character,  I  could  not  resist  the  tempta- 
tion. Besides,  I  knew  it  would  please  your 


A   HOUSE    OF   CARDS.  IJ 

sense  of  humor.  You  will  wish  me  luck?"  he 
pleaded. 

For  the  first  time  Van  Arsdale  faced  him. 

"You  love  her?  "  he  commenced. 

"  I  think  my  life  since  I  have  known  her  will 
be  my  best  answer,"  returned  Kendall,  simply. 

"  I  believe  so  too.  Then  you  love  her  enough 
to  renounce  all  thought  of  her  as  your  wife," 
affirmed  Van  Arsdale,  rising,  and  placing  his 
hand  on  his  friend's  shoulder. 

Kendall  shook  himself  free.  "Why  don't 
you  say  you  think  me  a  coward,  and  be  done 
with  it?"  he  demanded. 

"Because  you  warned  me  against  such  a 
drastic  course,"  Van  Arsdale  confessed  a  trifle 
wearily,  resuming  his  seat. 

An  uncomfortable  pause  ensued ;  then  Kendall 
went  on  with  an  unsuccessful  effort  at  easiness  : 
"  The  members  of  the  Round  Table  are  already 
talking  of  the  affair  they  intend  to  give  Yorke. 
Do  you  suppose  he  has  left  anything  for  other 
explorers  to  discover?" 

"I  cannot  tell.  I  am  content  to  know  he 
did  not  set  out  on  the  last  voyage  of  discovery, 
as  was  rumored." 

Kendall  joined  a  group  of  men  who  had  just 
entered.  Some  moments  later  Van  Arsdale 
2 


l8  A    HOUSE   OF   CARDS. 

recognized  him  as  he  boarded  a  passing  cable- 
car.  Van  Arsdale  continued  to  sit  before  the 
open  window  some  time  longer. 

"There  is  nothing  to  fear,"  he  ultimately 
decided.  "  Kendall  himself  realizes  it  is  only 
a  forlorn  hope.  Miss  Yerrington  is  wrapped 
up  in  her  desire  to  drink  of  the  enchanted  wine 
of  fame  —  she  does  not  think  of  marriage.  If 
she  were  to  marry  him,  she  would  deserve  the 
misery  which  would  surely  be  hers ;  but  I  fancy 
she  is  one  of  those  intense  women,  with  a 
nascent  taste  for  martyrdom  :  she  would  never 
permit  him  to  suspect  her  wretchedness.  She 
would  be  an  interesting  study.  If  she  loved 
Kendall,  it  would  be  bad  enough ;  for  I  imagine 
she  would  find  it  difficult  to  accept  calmly  the 
fact  that  a  man  can  be  only  a  man.  As  it  is  — 
she  will  not  marry  him.  She  has  known  Ken- 
dall too  many  years  not  to  know  —  .  And  she 
is  a  woman  with  an  exaggerated  sense  of 
responsibility." 

"  I  believe,"  he  confided  to  himself,  with  a 
certain  amusement  at  his  own  folly,  "  I  believe 
I  have  been  troubling  over  some  one's  else 
affairs." 


Chapter  II. 


JHE  parched  ground  gaped  thirstily  under 
the  sullen  glare  of  the  sun  beating 
fiercely  down  from  the  low-hanging  sky.  The 
dense  heat  of  the  mid-day  seemed  only  empha- 
sized by  the  leafy  shadows  of  the  few  ross- 
grown  trees  which  stood  in  the  lately-harvested, 
out-lying  fields.  The  raucous  note  of  a  bel- 
ligerent cock  broke  discordantly  on  the  heavy 
air. 

Andrew  Yerrington  walked  up  the  gravelled 
path,  noting  with  vigilant  eyes  the  blistering 
paint  of  the  farm  buildings.  He  took  down  the 
small  feather  duster  which  hung  beside  the 
house-door,  :  and  waving  it  'across  his  dusty 
boots,  walked  into  the  dining-room. 

The  majority  of  the  farm-hands  had  already 
eaten,  but  three  or  four  of  them  had  just 
entered,  and  were  being  served  by  Laura  and 
Nora  Yerrington. 

"W'ar'syer  sister?"  Yerrington  demanded, 
shortly. 


20  A    HOUSE   OF    CARDS. 

His  daughters  looked  at  each  other  helplessly, 
the  one  relying  upon  the  other  to  answer. 
Finally  Laura  said,  "Ma's  helping  her  pack. 
She  says  she  does  n't  want  any  dinner." 

"  Yeh  tell  Loys  I  don't  want  no  more  er  her 
fulishness.  She  's  ter  kum  eat  her  dinnur  this 
instunt."  He  spoke  with  the  unpleasant  delib- 
eration it  sometimes  pleased  him  to  assume. 
It  was  at  those  times  Andrew  Yerrington  was 
most  feared. 

He  continued  to  eat  on  stolidly.  Loys  Yer- 
rington was  to  return  to  San  Francisco  that 
afternoon,  and,  while  he  was  conscious  that  he 
should  draw  a  breath  of  relief  at  her  departure, 
he  also  realized  that  he  should  miss  her.  She 
added  zest  to  his  life.  He  could  remember 
the  time  when  his  wife  had  been  much  the 
same  as  Loys ;  now,  with  a  darkening  brow,  he 
characterized  her  as  a  poor  meek  creature,  and 
the  other  girls  were  like  her.  He  had  bent 
them  to  his  iron  will,  and  in  the  end  he  was 
displeased  with  his  work.  He  liked  a  woman, 
as  well  as  a  horse,  to  have  a  little  "  spirrut." 
Loys  had  escaped  him.  She  dared  to  think 
for  herself,  and  even  sat  in  judgment  on  him. 

He  had  offered  his  daughters  the  opportunity 
of  a  good  education,  but  Loys  was  the  only  one 


A    HOUSE   OF   CARDS.  21 

who  had  availed  herself  of  it.  He  had  stormed 
when  Gregory  Kendall  had  secured  Loys  the 
position  as  teacher  of  English  and  history  in 
Miss  Eastlake's  institute,  but  when  her  will  had 
overridden  his,  he  had  stipulated  that  her 
salary  should  be  forwarded  to  him  each  month. 
He  felt  he  had  a  right  to  it ;  but  sometimes, 
when  he  thought  of  the  meagre  "  '  lowunce  " 
he  made  her,  a  swarthy  flush  flooded  his 
cheeks,  and  he  muttered,  "  Her  spirrut  'ull  hev 
ter  be  broke.  She  kin  git  more  w'en-  she  begs 
furrit." 

Loys  never  "  got  more."  She  never  begged 
for  anything. 

Mrs.  Yerrington  entered  the  room  hurriedly. 
She  glanced  appealingly  toward  her  husband, 
saying,  "  She  's  comin',  Andrew." 

She  nervously  served  herself,  and  endeavored 
to  eat. 

"  Yeh  've  ben  doin'  too  much  fer  Loys,  ma," 
remarked  Yerrington,  looking  her  over  not 
unkindly,  the  while  stroking  the  fringe  of  gray 
whisker  which  adorned  his  pointed  chin. 

"  I  could  n't  do  anything  for  her.  She  was 
helping  in  the  kitchen  all  morning,  and  I  was 
afraid  she  'd  be  late." 

"  Yeh  don't  need  to  be  afeared  fer  Loys." 


22  A    HOUSE   OF   CARDS. 

Loys  Yerrington  paused  on  the  threshold. 
The  stifling  heat  was  rendered  the  more  intol- 
erable by  the  steam  and  the  odors  of  the  food. 
The  family  was  now  alone,  and  the  two  girls 
had  sat  down  to  eat  without  removing  the 
empty  dishes  with  which  the  table  was  laden. 

Loys  already  had  on  her  travelling-gown, 
which  clung  admirably  to  her  perfectly-rounded 
figure.  The  heat  had  added  to  the  creamy 
pallor  of  her  face,  and  lent  a  touch  of  languor 
to  her  movements.  She  walked  well,  —  a  rare 
accomplishment.  She  appeared  taller  than  she 
really  was,  which,  perhaps,  was  due  as  much  to 
her  mode  of  arranging  her  wealth  of  hair  as  to 
her  carriage. 

"Yere's  a  chair,"  remarked  Yerrington. 
"Tek  sum  berries,  ef  yeh  don't  hanker  arter 
anythun  more  fillin'.  It 's  most  too  hot  ter  eat, 
nohow.  But  yeh  '11  go  all  ter  pieces  ef  yeh 
don't  swaller  sumthun." 

Loys  seated  herself.  A  large  coffee-stain  on 
the  table-cloth  stared  her  in  the  face.  Her 
father  was  stirring  his  tea  so  vigorously  that  the 
saucer  was  flooded. 

"I'd  s'posed  yeh'd  hev  un  yer  bunnet. 
Natchelly,  yer  pinin'  ter  git  back." 

Nature  had  not  taken  into  consideration  the 


A    HOUSE   OF    CARDS.  23 

possibilities  of  Yerrington's  wishing  to  be  face- 
tious. He  was  at  no  time  handsome,  but  he 
was  most  unpleasant  to  look  at  when  he  smiled. 
His  thin  lips  parted  painfully  over  his  yellow 
teeth  and  discolored  gums ;  Loys  was  always 
in  dread  lest  the  tightly  drawn  skin  would 
break. 

He  sipped  the  tea  loudly  through  his  closed 
teeth,  looking  from  Loys  to  her  sisters. 

"  W'y  don't  yeh  fix  yer  ha'r  tidy  like  hern?  " 
he  demanded  of  Laura. 

"  I  have  n't  got  the  time,  pa,"  she  answered, 
good-naturedly. 

"  We  're  ull  druv  yere,"  he  allowed.  "  We  'ns 
ain't  got  no  time  ter  mek  oursels  pooty. 
P'r'aps  it 's  jest  ez  well.  I  allers  like  ter  see  a 
gyrl  look  sorter  genteel,  but  they  ez  sech  a  thun 
ez  her  carin'  too  much  fer  perkin'  up.  They 's 
thet  shameless  hussy's  picter  in  yer  room, 
Loys.  Ef  I  hed  my  way,  I  "d  hev  burned  it.  A 
painted  Jezebel,  'thout  enuff  close  un.  Mebby 
it  seems  ull  right  ter  yeh  now,  fer  yeh  hev 
grow'd  slack ;  but  onct  un  a  time  it  'd  hev 
seemed  ull  wrong." 

Loys  played  with  her  spoon,  her  eyes  dis- 
creetly veiled.  She  would  be  tempted  into  no 
argument.  It  would  all  be  over  in  another  hour. 


24  A   HOUSE   OF    CARDS. 

"\V'y  don't  yeh  ansur?  'Taint  likely  yeh 
agree  with  me." 

"  No,  I  do  not  agree  with  you." 

"Yeh  ain't  got  nothun  agin  it,  then.  Yeh 
think  it's  decent?" 

"  I  wonder  if  you  ever  heard  a  story  I  once 
came  across  about  your  friend  Dr.  Johnson." 

"  I  ain't  never  heerd  tell  un  it." 

"  He  was  standing  before  a  statue  with  Bos- 
well,"  commenced  the  girl,  "  and  Boswell  asked 
him  if  he  did  not  think  it  indecent.  *  No,  sir,' 
was  the  reply,  '  but  your  remark  is.'  " 

There  was  an  ominous  silence  as  she  finished. 
Her  father  bent  upon  her  his  angry  eyes,  which 
she  met  calmly.  She  wished  she  had  not 
spoken,  but  the  words  seemed  to  have  been 
forced  from  her.  Before  Yerrington  could 
speak,  Gregory  Kendall  stood  within  the  room. 

"  I  '11  hev  ter  mek  tracks,"  said  Yerrington. 
"They's  a  passel  er  work  ter  be  done  afore 
night- fall,  and  I  s'pose  yeh  want  sumbuddy  ter 
tek  yeh  and  yer  vallisses  to  the  station." 

"  Let  me  save  you  the  trouble,"  put  in  Ken- 
dall. "  I  shall  be  glad  to  take  Loys,  if  she  is 
willing." 

"Thank  you,  Gregory,"  interposed  Loys. 
"  Nora  promised  to  drive  me  to  the  station." 


A    HOUSE  OF   CARDS.  25 

"  They  ain't  no  sense  in  mekin'  the  trip  ef 
Kendall's  goin'.  It's  hot  out,  red  hot,  and 
Nora  and  the  hoss  'u'd  kum  back  tuckered  out. 
Yeh  kin  jest  ez  well  go  with  him,"  insisted 
Yerrington. 

He  gave  an  unsatisfactory  peck  at  his 
daughter's  cheek,  and  passed  from  the  house. 
The  fragrance  of  her  face  haunted  him.  The 
care  she  took  of  herself  was  sinful,  he  thought, 
but  he  liked  the  contact  with  her  violet-scented 
cheek. 

Loys  went  upstairs,  followed  by  her  mother. 
Mrs.  Yerrington  watched  her  put  on  her  hat 
and  veil,  her  lips  pressed  together  as  if  to 
restrain  a  moan. 

"  It 's  hard  to  think  I  won't  see  you  until 
Christmas,"  she  began. 

The  girl  knelt  down  beside  her,  bringing  the 
madly  swaying  rocker  to  a  sudden  stand-still. 

"It  would  be  so  easy  for  you  to  come, 
mother  dear.  If  it  were  only  for  a  few  days,  I 
should  be  content.  You  don't  know  what 
happiness  we  should  crowd  into  those  days. 
Promise  to  come." 

She  pressed  her  cheek  against  her  mother's 
faded  one ;  she  clasped  the  work-stained  hands 
in  her  own  exquisitely  modelled  ones.  The 


26  A    HOUSE   OF   CARDS. 

only  point  of  resemblance  between  them  was 
the  eyes.  There  was  the  same  soft  appeal  in 
both,  but  Loys's  were  the  more  intelligent,  and 
her  imperious  mouth  denied  their  gentleness. 

Mrs.  Yerrington's  lips  moved  convulsively. 
"  Your  father,  dear,  he  would  n't  like  it.  No,  it 
can't  be,"  she  decided. 

"Why  should  he  be  so  cruel?"  rebelled  the 
girl. 

"Hush,  child.  Your  father  is  a  good  man, 
and  a  forgivin'  one.  Don't  you  ever  think  him 
harsh." 

The  mother  always  upheld  the  father  before 
the  child.  Loys  respected  her  all  the  more  for 
it.  Before  her  husband,  Mrs.  Yerrington  never 
showed  Loys  any  affection ;  when  they  were 
alone,  she  could  not  altogether  restrain  the  out- 
burst of  her  tenderness.  Her  other  daughters 
would  have  looked  upon  any  mark  of  affection 
as  a  waste  of  time.  She  was  their  mother,  and, 
naturally,  they  loved  her ;  there  was  no  need  to 
say  anything  about  it. 

"  Mother,  do  you  know  you  have  forgotten 
that  I  am  twenty- four  years  old  to-day?  " 

"  I  quite  forgot ;  I  don't  see  how  I  did,  but  I 
forgot.  But  your  father  remembered.  He  told 
me  to  give  you  this.  He  must  have  remem- 


A   HOUSE   OF   CARDS.  27 

bered  it  was  your  birthday;  he  never  forgets 
it,"  she  whispered,  as  if  to  herself,  straining  Loys's 
hands  with  fierce  intensity.  "  And  I  clean  for- 
got. It  does  n't  seem  as  if  it  could  be  twenty- 
four  years  ago."  She  forced  into  the  girl's 
unwilling  hands  an  envelope,  which  evidently 
contained  money.  "  Don't  you  refuse  it,  Loys, 
for  my  sake.  I  wish  you  —  " 

Loys  folded  her  arms  about  her  mother. 
There  was  a  mistiness  about  their  eyes  when 
Loys  drew  on  her  gloves. 

"  I  wish  your  father  had  let  Nora  take  you  to 
the  station,  since  you'd  have  preferred  it. 
Listen,  Loys  :  don't  marry  Gregory,  if  you  don't 
love  him.  I  don't  see  how  you  could  well  do 
better ;  but  don't  take  him,  if  you  don't  love 
him." 

"  Gregory  knows,  mother,  that  I  shall  never 
marry  him." 

She  went  into  the  kitchen  to  bid  the  Chinese 
cook  good- by,  then  kissed  her  sisters. 

In  a  way  they  were  sorry  to  see  her  go.  She 
was  quick  and  willing,  and  made  their  work 
light  for  them ;  but  they  also  knew  that  they 
could  lapse  into  modes  of  speech  and  habits  at 
which  Loys  openly  frowned.  Altogether,  it  was 
more  comfortable  when  she  was  away. 


28  A   HOUSE   OF   CARDS. 

Loys  and  Kendall  were  alone  in  the  dog-cart. 
The  pitiless  glare  of  the  brazen  sun  was  insup- 
portable, but  Loys  was  unconscious  of  it.  She 
was  absorbed  in  her  shamed  feeling  of  relief  at 
getting  away.  Kendall  looked  down  upon  her, 
—  a  great  happiness  in  his  eyes  because  he  was 
with  her. 

"Of  what  are  you  thinking,  Loys?"  he 
asked. 

She  was  looking  over  at  Mount  Diablo  in  the 
distance,  a  tremulous  smile  upon  her  lips. 

"  I  have  been  indulging  myself  in  a  little 
cheap  cynicism.  Do  you  remember  when  we 
took  this  drive  together  four  years  ago,  when  I 
first  went  to  Miss  Eastlake's?  I  wonder  that 
you  did  not  laugh  at  my  audacious  confidence 
in  myself.  I  believed  "  —  she  hurried  on,  with 
a  mirthless  little  laugh  —  "  Ah,  what  did  I  not 
believe  ?  But  now  I  have  grown  so  sceptical  I 
do  not  even  believe  in  myself." 

"  I  wish  I  could  impart  to  you  some  of  my 
content." 

"  Contentment  is  a  diet  on  which  one  turns 
into  a  vegetable.  I  do  not  wish  to  be  content 
with  what  I  have." 

"  Most  women  would  be  content  with  what 
you  have,"  he  urged.  "  You  live  —  " 


A    HOUSE   OF    CARDS.  29 

"  No,  I  do  not ;  and  as  long  as  I  live,  I  wish 
to  live.  For  four  years  I  have  been  describing 
the  same  circle ;  but  perhaps,  during  three  of 
them,  it  was  with  the  hope  that  the  circle  would 
widen.  I  had  dreams  of  success  and  travel. 
And  now,  now  I  know  I  shall  rise  every  morning 
(before  I  have  any  inclination  to  rise)  to  teach 
history  and  English,  to  go  to  bed  so  exhausted 
that  I  shall  have  no  desire  to  improve  myself. 
There  is  no  sense  in  denying  it,  —  poverty  is  a 
strait-jacket,  and  one  it  is  impossible  to  wrest 
open.  I  am  afraid  I  am  growing  to  be  a  pro- 
fessional pessimist,"  she  added,  ruefully. 

It  was  not  often  she  made  a  confidant  of  him, 
for  she  realized  that  he  could  not  understand  or 
sympathize  with  her  wild  dreams  and  vaulting 
ambitions. 

"Would  you  marry  for  money?"  he  que- 
ried. 

"  Oh,  no,  I  was  taught  that  I  was  not  to  do 
that ;  but  I  am  equally  as  determined  not  to 
fall  in  love  with  any  but  a  wealthy  man.  A 
woman's  heart  is  such  an  accommodating 
article.  It  will  be  a  case  of,  — 

'  I  would  not  love  you  half  so  much,  dear, 
Loved  I  not  riches  more.'  " 


30  A   HOUSE   OF    CARDS. 

She  turned  to  Kendall,  making  a  show  of 
gravity ;  and  he,  noting  her  mouth  of  exquisite 
sensibility,  decided  that  she  meant  nothing  of 
what  she  had  said. 

"  So  you  think  you  would  be  happy  if  you 
could  travel?"  he  questioned,  looking  between 
the  horse's  ears. 

"  Happy  ?  I  do  not  know.  But  I  do  not 
wish  to  go  out  of  the  world  having  seen  nothing 
of  it.  Ah,  well,  if  I  do,  I  warn  you,  I  shall 
come  back  as  a  ghost-^s\y,  to  wander  about  all 
the  splendors  I  am  now  missing." 

By  a  mental  pirouette  she  had  regained  the 
safety  of  the  middle  course.  On  the  instant 
she  became  more  tangible  to  him. 

"  Loys,"  he  whispered,  "  I  have  not  much  to 
offer  you,  but  I  would  do  my  utmost  to  make 
you  happy.  Is  it  —  " 

"  Don't,"  she  pleaded.  "  We  have  been 
through  it  all  a  great  many  times  before,  and  it 
will  always  have  the  same  ending.  Don't  you 
see,  dear,  that  I  could  do  without  all  of  which  I 
spoke,  if  I  loved  you  ?  But  I  do  not,  and  I  never 
shall." 

"I  wonder  what  I  would  have  said,"  she 
mused,  as  she  stepped  from  the  cart,  "if  he 
had  asked  me  to  be  his  wife  when  we  first  left 


A   HOUSE   OF    CARDS.  31 

the  farm.  I  am  glad  I  do  not  know.  I  was  so 
anxious  to  get  away  from  the  sordidness  of  it  all. 
Fortunately  he  never  asks  me  when  I  am  in  one 
of  my  moods." 

In  her  interest  in  the  flying  landscape,  Ken- 
dall was  soon  dismissed  from  her  thoughts. 


34  A   HOUSE   OF    CARDS. 

own  recognition,  and  she  would  have  been  in  a 
fair  way  to  be  spoiled  had  not  her  native 
good  sense  saved  her.  She  had  never,  unfor- 
tunately, been  able  to  deceive  herself,  and  the 
world  met  with  no  greater  success. 

For  more  than  a  year  she  watched  the  antics 
of  her  little  circle  with  a  spice  of  amused 
malice ;  then  its  jejune  conversation  began 
to  bore  her  seriously,  and,  having  served  her 
novitiate,  she  rarely  afterward  ventured  beyond 
the  frontiers  of  society. 

Under  the  chaperonage  of  Mrs.  Luttrell,  an 
old  family  friend,  she  travelled  extensively,  and 
had  only  within  the  week  returned  to  San 
Francisco  from  Japan. 

"  I  hope  Wilson  will  not  announce  dinner 
just  yet,"  Penelope  was  saying,  as  she  stood  in 
her  drawing-room  that  evening,  with  Mrs. 
Luttrell,  Riker  Van  Arsdale,  and  Laura  Yorke, 
a  school-girl  of  eighteen  or  nineteen  years  of 
age.  "Bishop  makes  it  a  point  to  dine  with 
me  on  my  birthday,  even  at  some  inconvenience 
to  himself;  consequently  I  shall  feel  wounded 
if  he  allows  the  matter  of  a  few  hundred  miles 
to  keep  him  away  to-night." 

She  moved  across  the  room  to  arrange  some 
lilies,  and  Laura  Yorke  noted  the  exquisite 


A   HOUSE   OF   CARDS.  35 

detail  of  her  toilet.  Penelope  Browning 
achieved  the  by  no  means  easy  triumph,  for  a 
woman  with  unlimited  means  at  her  command, 
of  having  her  clothes  impress  the  onlooker, 
not  with  a  desire  to  know  how  much  they  cost, 
but  where  she  ordered  them. 

"  But,  you  see,"  interposed  Laura  Yorke, 
"  he  returned  only  last  Wednesday,  when  he 
joined  mother  at  Castle  Crag.  As  she  expects 
to  return  to-morrow,  it  is  not  probable  he  will 
be  here  to-night." 

She  was  speaking  of  Bishop  Yorke,  her  half- 
brother.  She  somewhat  resented  Penelope's 
calm  belief  that  he  would  disarrange  all  his 
plans  merely  for  the  sake  of  dining  with  her 
that  night.  No  trace  of  her  annoyance  was 
visible,  however. 

As  the  last  word  died  away,  Yorke  was 
announced. 

He  stood  for  a  second  looking  about  him,  as 
though  pleased  to  find  himself  again  in  the 
room,  then  crossed  to  Mrs.  Luttrell,  while  his 
strong  bronzed  face  relaxed  into  a  smile  of 
undisguised  pleasure. 

He  was  a  distinctly  noticeable  man  in  appear- 
ance. The  lower  portion  of  his  face,  however, 
was  of  such  marked  vigor  of  outline  that  it 


36  A    HOUSE   OF    CARDS. 

tended  to  produce  an  impression  of  strength 
rather  than  of  beauty.  Some  people  chose  to 
consider  him  too  tall ;  but  when  he  stood  next 
to  other  men,  he  never  appeared  awkward,  — 
they  only  seemed  insignificant.  The  room 
seemed  suddenly  to  have  grown  smaller. 

"  It  was  kind  of  you  to  wait  for  me ;  I  see 
in  the  action  your  faith  in  me,"  he  murmured, 
as  he  bent  over  Penelope's  hand. 

He  turned  to  greet  his  sister,  who  said,  "  I 
did  not  expect  you  until  to-morrow.  Did 
mamma  return  with  you?" 

"  No,"  he  returned,  smiling  leisurely  down  at 
her.  "  I  was  sorry  to  leave  her,  but  she  will  be 
quite  comfortable  under  the  care  of  her  maid, 
and  I  always  contrive,  if  possible,  to  dine  with 
Penelope  on  this  night." 

Her  eyes  fell  under  his  gaze.  She  was 
angered  that  she  had  revealed  her  jealousy  of 
his  attention  to  their  hostess.  . 

"And  so  you  have  concluded  to  spend  the 
winter  in  Italy,"  Yorke  hazarded,  when  his  first 
hunger  had  been  appeased. 

"  Yes,  and  then  to  continue  on  a  systematic 
voyage  of  discovery,"  Penelope  explained. 
"  I  feel  I  am  unkind  to  entail  upon  Mrs.  Lut- 
trell  all  the  fatigue  of  sight-seeing.  It  is  time 


A    HOUSE   OF    CARDS.  37 

that  she  be  relieved.  Do  you  know  some  in- 
teresting, charming  woman  who  would  be 
willing  to  accompany  us?" 

"  It  is  'time  that  Mrs.  Luttrell  be  relieved," 
agreed  Van  Arsdale. 

"Yes,  it  is  time,"  echoed  Yorke,  discreetly 
lowering  his  lids  to  conceal  a  smile. 

Penelope  Browning's  lips  parted  in  a  smile  of 
amusement.  "  It  was  very  clever  of  you,"  she 
commenced,  turning  to  Van  Arsdale.  "  I  con- 
fess I  was  surprised  at  the  size  of  the  bunch, 
and  proceeded  suspiciously  to  count  the  roses 
you  sent  me  to-day.  There  were  twenty-five 
full-blown,  feathery  flowers,  and  one  tiny  bud. 
They  were  symbolical  of  my  years.  I  smiled 
appreciatively." 

"And  twenty-five  and  one  make  twenty- 
six,"  reminded  Laura. ! 

"Ah,"  breathed  Penelope,  making  a  careful 
scrutiny  of  Laura's  cold  face,  "  Ah,  I  was  never 
clever  at  figures.  It  was  a  thing  to  which  little 
attention  was  given  in  my  school-days.  I  am 
not  a  calculating  young  woman,  Laura.  And 
yet  the  sight  of  the  roses  filled  me  with  a  vague 
dismay.  I  held  my  hand-mirror  in  the  clear, 
disheartening  light,  and  realized,  with  cruel 
keenness,  that  it  is  time,  as  you  so  pleasantly 


38  A    HOUSE   OF    CARDS. 

intimate,  that  I  arrange  myself.  It  must  be  a 
very  superior  article  which  can  go  through 
twenty-five  years  of  this  weary  strife  and  still 
show  no  signs  of  wear  and  tear.  But  all  my 
faculties  are,  as  yet,  unimpaired,  —  that  of 
speech  in  particular." 

"Yes,  it  is  time,"  reiterated  Riker  Van  Arsdale. 
"  A  woman  never  attains  her  true  happiness 
until  she  is  married.  The  frame  of  your  mind, 
Penelope,  is  clearly  indicated  by  your  unsettled 
mode  of  life.  You  are  forever  on  the  wing —  " 

"  Pursuing  happiness,"  she  interrupted. 

"  I  think  we  both  came  to-night,  prepared  to 
make  you  realize  the  folly  of  your  course," 
declared  Yorke.  "  We  are  such  old  friends, 
we  feel  we  have  the  right  to  speak  quite  openly, 
for  you  have  always  granted  us  that  privilege. 
You  are  such  a  womanly  woman,  I  know  you 
will  find  your  happiness  only  in  your  home  and 
husband." 

"Don't  wait  too  long,"  cautioned  Van  Ars- 
dale. "Each  year  you  will  grow  more  exact- 
ing." 

"  And  we  must  team  to  close  our  eyes,  or  else 
peer  discreetly  between  our  fingers  at  the 
failings  of  our  fellows,"  put  in  Yorke. 

Penelope  raised  her  glass  and  drank  almost 


A  HOUSE  OF   CARDS.  39 

feverishly,  then  bent  her  head  toward  Van 
Arsdale. 

"Have  you  no  conception  of  your  foolhardi- 
ness?"  she  demanded,  her  long  eyes  narrowing. 
"  You  have  planted  the  idea  of  marriage  in  my 
active  imagination.  You  have  even  held  it  out 
to  me  as  a  duty,  and  no  one  ever  knew  me  to 
avoid  a  duty.  Yet  you  must  have  been  alive 
to  the  fact  that  you  two  are  the  men  I  like  best. 
You  have  planned  your  own  Frankenstein.  Be- 
ware that  it  does  not  destroy  you." 

Van  Arsdale's  worn  smile  flickered  across 
his  face  and  died  prematurely.  Yorke  flushed 
uncomfortably  under  her  gay  tone.  Possibly 
they  had  overstepped  the  bounds  of  good 
taste  by  speaking  so  plainly,  although  she  had 
always  encouraged  them  to  do  so.  In  former 
years  the  comments  of  to-night  had  been  spoken 
in  jest ;  but  possibly  it  was  the  strain  of  earnest- 
ness which  now  offended. 

"Shall  I  tell  you  why  I  am  not  married?" 
she  asked. 

They  all  bent  upon  her  a  look  of  mock 
serious  attention,  and  Mrs.  Luttrell  laughed  at 
the  grave  import  of  her  words. 

"  It  all  happened  years  ago,"  —  Penelope 
began,  in  a  musing  voice,  —  "  so  long  ago  that  I 


4O  A    HOUSE   OF    CARDS. 

forget  when  it  first  came  to  me  —  Love.  You 
must  not  blame  the  man ;  he  made  no  effort  to 
win  it.  And  ever  since  he  has  filled  entirely 
the  niche  in  my  heart." 

She  looked  before  her  at  the  yellow  roses, 
now  beginning  to  droop  their  proud  heads, 
and  Laura  Yorke  foolishly  wondered  if  she  knew 
how  beautiful  she  looked  as  the  candles'  dim 
light  brought  out  the  warm  glints  of  her  brown 
hair  and  deepened  the  shadows  under  her 
softened  eyes.  Her  expression  of  inflexible 
gravity  stilled  their  indecent  laughter. 

"  Why  do  you  not  marry  him  ?  "  asked  Laura. 

"  Why  ?  "  echoed  Penelope.  "  Why,  because 
he  does  not  love  me." 

Mrs.  Luttrell  laughed  outright  in  amusement. 
It  was  too  ridiculous  to  see  Penelope's  pose. 

"Are  you  quite  certain?"  queried  Yorke, 
falling  in  with  her  humor,  and  admiring  the 
skill  with  which  she  was  playing  her  role. 

"  Quite  certain,"  she  answered,  simply. 

"  Does  he  know?"  inquired  Mrs.  Luttrell. 

Penelope  started.  "  I  think  not.  No,  no ; 
of  course  not." 

"  Then  let  him  know,"  counselled  the  older 
woman. 

The  girl  smiled  proudly,  and  drew  herself  up. 


A   HOUSE   OF   CARDS.  4! 

"  Put  him  out  of  your  heart,  then,  and  be 
happy,  with  another  man,"  suggested  Yorke, 
taking  a  peach. 

"And  what  do  you  advise?"  Penelope 'asked, 
turning  to  Van  Arsdale. 

"  To  wait.  He  is  alive,  and  unmarried  ? 
Yes.  I  prophesy  success  for  you.  It  is  better 
to  wait  for  the  one,  even  if  he  never  comes, 
than  to  make  a  pretence  of  happiness  with 
another." 

"  I  think  so  too,"  she  affirmed.  Then,  to  her 
surprise  as  well  as  theirs,  a  tear  gathered  in 
her  eye,  and  glistened  there  unheeded.  No 
one  appeared  to  see  it.  "  I  shall  wait,  and 
yet  I  know  I  shall  wait  in  vain.  Let  us  forget 
my  melancholy  history." 

She  watched  Yorke  with  unlimited  curiosity 
as  he  disposed  of  his  peach. 

"You  deserve  a  round  of  applause,"  she 
continued ;  "  for  a  peach  is  the  most  difficult 
thing  to  eat  gracefully.  As  the  two  dear  old 
souls  in  '  Cranford '  ate  their  oranges  in  the 
privacy  of  their  own  rooms,  because  the  juice 
ran  everywhere,  do  you  suppose  they  ate  their 
peaches  leaning  over  a  fence?" 

"  Miss  Yerrington  said  that  very  thing  to  me 
yesterday,"  observed  Laura  Yorke. 


42  A   HOUSE   OF   CARDS. 

"Who  is  Miss  Yerrington?"  appealed  Mrs. 
Luttrell. 

"  The  teacher  of  history  and  English  litera- 
ture at  Miss  Eastlake's,"  responded  Laura. 

"  You  are  very  fortunate  to  be  under  her," 
Van  Arsdale  volunteered.  "  She  is  an  unusual 
young  woman." 

They  looked  at  him  in  faint  surprise. 

"  I  met  Miss  Yerrington  through  Kendall," 
he  explained,  in  reply  to  Penelope's  slightly 
arched  brows.  "  They  are  great  friends." 

" Gregory  Kendall,"  repeated  Penelope.  "It 
seems  strange  to  think  of  him  as  the  friend  of 
one  of  Miss  Eastlake's  teachers.  I  thought  he 
never  knew  any  one  not  possessed  of  a  million 
or  two." 

"  I  never  noticed  that  characteristic  in  Ken- 
dall," remonstrated  Yorke,  "though  I  should 
not  blame  him  for  it.  Life  is  a  game  of  whist, 
and  it  is  part  of  one's  duties  to  know  who 
holds  trumps  and  diamonds  and  the  high 
honors." 

"That  she  is  young  is  an  innovation,"  re- 
sumed Penelope,  taking  Yorke's  rebuke  with 
the  calm  of  one  accustomed  to  his  reprimands. 
"  In  other  days,  all  of  Miss  Eastlake's  teachers 
were  so  old,  it  seemed  that  death  had  forgotten 


A   HOUSE   OF    CARDS.  43 

them.  So  she  teaches  you  English,  which  I 
suppose  she  don't  know  herself." 

"Yes,  she  do,"  contradicted  Laura.  "Oh,  I 
did  not  intend  to  be  rude  !  " 

"  Why  do  you  say  '  She  do,'  and  then  color 
so  warmly?  " 

"  You  see,  you  said,  '  She  don't,'  and  when 
we  say  that,  Miss  Yerrington  interrupts  quietly, 
'  Oh,  yes,  she  do.'  We  say  '  She  does  n't,'  now." 

The  smile  became  epidemic. 

"She  writes,"  put  in  Van  Arsdale.  "Per- 
haps you  read  that  story  of  hers  on  Saturday,  — 
'  A  Last  Resource.'  " 

"  Was  that  hers  ?  It  was  told  with  fine  dra- 
matic power,  and  was  extremely  well  written," 
commended  Yorke. 

"  Name  us  some  of  her  heroes  in  history," 
directed  Penelope. 

Laura  knit  her  brows.  "  I  do  not  know  her, 
or  her  likes  or  dislikes,  intimately.  Still,  I 
think  she  admires  Napoleon  vastly,  for  her 
voice  rings  as  she  quotes,  '  Carelessly,  almost  in 
a  stooping  attitude,  rode  the  Emperor,  with 
one  hand  holding  aloft  the  rein,  with  the  other 
stroking  in  kindly  fashion  his  horse's  neck.  It 
was  a  sunny,  marble  hand,  a  — '  " 

"  —  mighty  hand,  one  of  those  two  hands 


42  A   HOUSE   OF   CARDS. 

"Who  is  Miss  Yerrington?"  appealed  Mrs. 
Luttrell. 

"  The  teacher  of  history  and  English  litera- 
ture at  Miss  Eastlake's,"  responded  Laura. 

"  You  are  very  fortunate  to  be  under  her," 
Van  Arsdale  volunteered.  "  She  is  an  unusual 
young  woman." 

They  looked  at  him  in  faint  surprise. 

"  I  met  Miss  Yerrington  through  Kendall," 
he  explained,  in  reply  to  Penelope's  slightly 
arched  brows.  "  They  are  great  friends." 

"  Gregory  Kendall,"  repeated  Penelope.  "  It 
seems  strange  to  think  of  him  as  the  friend  of 
one  of  Miss  Eastlake's  teachers.  I  thought  he 
never  knew  any  one  not  possessed  of  a  million 
or  two." 

"  I  never  noticed  that  characteristic  in  Ken- 
dall," remonstrated  Yorke,  "  though  I  should 
not  blame  him  for  it.  Life  is  a  game  of  whist, 
and  it  is  part  of  one's  duties  to  know  who 
holds  trumps  and  diamonds  and  the  high 
honors." 

"  That  she  is  young  is  an  innovation,"  re- 
sumed Penelope,  taking  Yorke's  rebuke  with 
the  calm  of  one  accustomed  to  his  reprimands. 
"  In  other  days,  all  of  Miss  Eastlake's  teachers 
were  so  old,  it  seemed  that  death  had  forgotten 


A    HOUSE   OF   CARDS.  43 

them.  So  she  teaches  you  English,  which  I 
suppose  she  don't  know  herself." 

"Yes,  she  do,"  contradicted  Laura.  "Oh,  I 
did  not  intend  to  be  rude  !  " 

"  Why  do  you  say  '  She  do,'  and  then  color 
so  warmly?" 

"  You  see,  you  said,  '  She  don't,'  and  when 
we  say  that,  Miss  Yerrington  interrupts  quietly, 
'  Oh,  yes,  she  do.'  We  say  '  She  does  n't,'  now." 

The  smile  became  epidemic. 

"She  writes,"  put  in  Van  Arsdale.  "Per- 
haps you  read  that  story  of  hers  on  Saturday,  — 
*  A  Last  Resource.'  " 

"  Was  that  hers  ?  It  was  told  with  fine  dra- 
matic power,  and  was  extremely  well  written," 
commended  Yorke. 

"Name  us  some  of  her  heroes  in  history," 
directed  Penelope. 

Laura  knit  her  brows.  "  I  do  not  know  her, 
or  her  likes  or  dislikes,  intimately.  Still,  I 
think  she  admires  Napoleon  vastly,  for  her 
voice  rings  as  she  quotes,  '  Carelessly,  almost  in 
a  stooping  attitude,  rode  the  Emperor,  with 
one  hand  holding  aloft  the  rein,  with  the  other 
stroking  in  kindly  fashion  his  horse's  neck.  It 
was  a  sunny,  marble  hand,  a  — '  " 

"  —  mighty  hand,  one  of  those  two  hands 


44  A    HOUSE   OF    CARDS. 

that  had  bound  the  many-headed  monster  of 
anarchy,  and  enforced  order  amidst  the  conflict 
of  the  nations  ;  and  now  it  was  caressing  good- 
naturedly  the  mane  of  his  horse,"  supplied 
Yorke,  in  German,  as  Laura  faltered.  "  His 
face  too  had  the  sheen  that  we  notice  in  the 
countenances  of  Greek  and  Roman  statues ;  its 
features  certainly  were  cast  in  the  noble  mould 
of  the  antique,  and  on  them  was  written,  '  Thou 
shalt  have  no  other  gods  before  me.'  " 

"Does  she  know  Heine  in  the  original?" 
queried  Penelope. 

"  Yes,  and  do  you  know  why  she  is  studying 
French  now?"  Laura  paused  abruptly,  as  if 
dismayed  at  her  own  prolixity. 

"And  why  is  she  studying  French?"  asked 
Yorke,  encouragingly. 

It  was  too  late  for  retreat.  The  look  of  con- 
fusion still  lingered,  but  the  girl  was  smiling  as 
she  continued,  "  One  evening  when  I  was  not 
well,  and  she  was  bathing  my  head  (no  one  has 
such  a  hand  as  Miss  Yerrington),  she  told  me 
she  was  studying  French  that  she  might  speak 
it  to  her  children,  and  save  them  the  neces- 
sity of  struggling  with  the  difficulties  of  the 
language." 

Yorke's  laugh  led  all  the  rest. 


A   HOUSE   OF   CARDS.  45 

Van  Arsdale  was  the  last  to  leave  that  night. 
As  he  and  Penelope  stood  in  the  drawing- 
room,  she  said :  "  I  have  been  thinking  of 
Laura's  Miss  Yerrington.  I  fancy  I  should 
like  her.  Do  you  think  she  would  be  willing  to 
go  away  with  us? " 

"  I  have  no  doubt  you  would  like  her,  and 
that  she  would  be  glad  to  accompany  you,"  he 
returned.  "I  think  you  would  be  peculiarly 
well-fitted  for  each  other." 

"Upon  your  return  from  Alaska,  will  you 
take  me  to  her?  " 

"I  do  not  know  her  well  enough  for  that. 
Gregory  Kendall  will  take  you." 

"  Oh,  I  thought  you  knew  her  very  well.  We 
shall  be  in  Southern  California  nearly  two 
months,  but  I  shall  not  forget  her,  and  when 
we  return  Gregory  must  take  me  to  her." 

Although  she  had  a  retentive  memory,  she 
carefully  made  a  memorandum  to  write  to 
Kendall  while  at  Coronado. 

On  the  following  afternoon  Yorke  brought  to 
his  sister  a  rare  first  edition  of  "  The  Book  Le 
Grand,"  which  contained  a  verse  in  Heine's 
own  hand. 

"  Will  you  give  this  to  Miss  Yerrington?  "  he 
said.  "  I  am  glad  to  send  it  to  one  who  will 


46  A   HOUSE   OF   CARDS. 

appreciate  it.     This  card  will  make  the  accep- 
tance very  easy." 

He  had  skillfully  worded  the  note  so  as 
to  exact  an  answer,  and  when  he  heard  that 
Miss  Yerrington  had  accepted  the  book,  he 
watched  for  her  acknowledgment  with  an 
eagerness  which  diverted  even  himself.  But 
none  ever  came. 


Chapter  IV. 


|T  was  approaching  the  close  of  study- 
hour  in  Miss  Eastlake's  institute. 

Loys  Yerrington  sympathized  with  the  girls 
that  evening  in  their  only  half-concealed  dis- 
taste for  their  books.  It  had  been  one  of  those 
sultry,  enervating  days  that  visit  San  Francisco 
in  September,  but  now,  through  the  open  win- 
dows, there  swept  the  refreshing  night-breezes 
which  seemed  to  woo  them  from  the  gas-lit 
rooms. 

The  majority  of  Miss  Eastlake's  patrons  were 
day-pupils  ;  Laura  Yorke  was  the  only  one,  re- 
siding in  San  Francisco,  who  boarded  at  the 
school. 

She  was  now  leaning  her  fair,  unruffled  head 
on  her  hand,  watching  Kate  Tisdall,  who  was 
still  pondering  over  the  morrow's  lessons. 

In  San  Francisco  it  is,  generally,  only  the 
wealthiest  class  which  sends  its  children  to  the 
private  schools.  After  a  more  than  usually  irk- 


48  A   HOUSE  OF   CARDS. 

some  day,  Loys  Yerrington  would  affirm  to 
herself  whimsically  that  she  believed  in  the  law 
of  compensation.  Had  Miss  Eastlake's  pupils 
been  less  wealthy,  they  might  have  been  in 
danger  of  being  termed  oafs. 

Loys  glanced  resentfully  at  the  clock,  which 
seemed  to  sparkle  with  malicious  pleasure  at 
so  slowly  marking  off  the  minutes.  Laura 
Yorke's  eyes  fell  upon  her.  She  could  not 
remember  ever  having  seen  Miss  Yerrington 
look  so  unutterably  weary. 

"  What  a  fool  she  is,  to  waste  her  time  on 
these  idiots  !  "  mused  the  girl.  "  Why  does  n't 
she  marry  Gregory  Kendall,  and  get  away  from 
it  all?  The  great  reason  why  she  is  so  dissatis- 
fied is  that  she  has  not  the  time  to  write.  If 
she  were  married,  she  could  do  as  she  liked. 
I  wonder  if  she  is  foolish  enough  to  dream  of 
a  King  Cophetua  in  this  Nineteenth  Century 
of  ours." 

Kate  Tisdall  closed  her  books  with  a  sigh  of 
relief,  and,  glancing  at  Miss  Yerrington,  turned 
to  Laura  with  a  shrug  of  the  shoulders  which 
indicated  that  they  were  unobserved.  School- 
girls always  have  their  fingers  clasped  tightly 
around  their  teacher's  pulse. 

"  I   have   learned  of  the   grandest  fortune- 


A   HOUSE   OF   CARDS.  49 

teller,"  Kate  began,  in  a  penetrating  whisper. 
"  Cousin  Mary  says  she  is  simply  wonderful. 
She  just  takes  your  hands  in  hers  and  then 
reveals  your  past  and  your  fu  —  " 

"  Only  one  class  of  people  goes  to  fortune- 
tellers," broke  in  Laura,  decisively.  "  I  am 
surprised  that  Mrs.  Herrick  should  have  gone. 
I  imagined  only  servants  and  people  of  that 
stamp  displayed  a  vulgar  curiosity  about  the 
future." 

"Oh,  do  they?"  scoffed  her  companion. 
"  Why,  all  the  physicians  and  lawyers  in  town 
think  this  Mrs.  Wills  wonderful.  Cousin  Mary 
told  me  that  nearly  all  of  these  clairvoyants 
are  illiterate  frauds,  but  that  Mrs.  Wills  is 
extremely  intelligent.  You  ought  to  hear  the 
things  she  told  Cousin  Mary.  Would  n't  you 
like  to  go  this  Saturday?  We  can  manage  it 
some  way." 

"  It  might  be  interesting  as  an  experience," 
deliberated  Laura.  "  Madame  de  Pompadour's 
future  was  foretold  when  she  was  only  ten,  and 
so  was  Eugenie's,  and  —  " 

"  Miss  Yorke  !  "  called  Loys,  warningly. 

Five  minutes  later  she  dismissed  the  girls, 
but  requested  Laura  Yorke  and  Kate  Tisdall  to 
remain. 


50  A    HOUSE   OF    CARDS. 

"I  had  no  objection  to  your  whispering," 
she  commenced,  "for  I  knew  you  would  not 
do  so  before  you  had  learned  your  lessons.  I 
thought  you  must  realize  it  was  unavoidable 
that  I  should  overhear  you,  for  you  were  at  no 
pains  to  lower  your  voices.  There  must  be  no 
further  thought  of  visiting  this  clairvoyant, 
whoever  she  may  be.  Think  of  the  folly  of  it. 
You  know  your  past,  —  perhaps  even  better 
than  this  seer,"  she  urged,  smiling.  "  And  the 
future?  No  one  knows  it.  If  it  is  to  be 
bright,  we  can  wait  for  it ;  if  gloomy,  it  is 
merciful  we  do  not  know  it  beforehand :  we 
learn  it  only  too  soon.  As  for  the  women  you 
cited,  it  would  have  been  better  for  them  had 
they  not  been  warned  of  the  fate  in  store  for 
them.  Don't  you  think  Madame  de  Pom- 
padour's belief  in  the  prophecy  tended  to  pre- 
cipitate its  fulfilment?" 

"  Perhaps,"  they  allowed. 

"  I  shall  not  ask  you  to  promise  not  to  go 
there.  I  know  I  may  rely  upon  you.  Good- 
night," she  murmured,  turning  to  take  the  card 
a  maid  presented  to  her.  A  slight  frown 
marred  the  smoothness  of  her  brow  as  she  read 
Kendall's  name. 

Gregory  Kendall  was  a  far  distant  connection 


A   HOUSE   OF   CARDS.  51 

of  Miss  Eastlake,  so  he  was  at  liberty  to  see 
Loys  as  often  as  she  would  permit. 

Loys  ran  up  to  her  room  to  make  some 
slight  changes  in  her  toilet. 

"You  are  looking  tired,  Loys,"  she  ex- 
claimed, making  a  moue  at  herself  in  the 
mirror,  as  she  fastened  a  red  rose  in  her  hair 
and  tried  to  pinch  some  color  into  her  cheeks, 
"  and  it  is  not  becoming  to  look  tired." 

She  was  a  woman  who  would  have  taken 
exquisite  pains  with  herself  had  she  lived  alone 
in  a  desert.  With  her,  cleanliness  ranked  far 
above  godliness. 

She  was  not  altogether  pleased  to  see  Ken- 
dall that  night,  for  some  unperformed  duties 
weighed  heavily  upon  her. 

"You  may  stay  only  an  hour,"  she  said. 
"  Probably  you  will  wish  to  go  long  before  the 
end  of  it,  for  I  am  touched  with  the  universal 
discontent  to-night." 

"No  wonder.  You  have  been  imprisoned 
all  day.  Come  for  a  walk  or  a  ride  on  the 
dummy." 

She  shook  her  head.  "  You  do  not  know 
how  much  I  have  to  do.  Was  it  not  Socra- 
tes who  said  leisure  was  the  fairest  of  all 
possessions  ?  " 


52  A    HOUSE   OF   CARDS. 

"  I  don't  know,"  he  returned,  moodily. 

"  It  sounds  Socratic.  Well,  I  wish  I  had 
leisure.  What  do  you  want?"  she  demanded, 
bending  toward  him  as  if  devoured  by  curi- 
osity. 

"  A  million,"  he  answered,  laconically. 

"  I  am  afraid,"  she  sighed,  "  that  that  is 
everybody's  ambition,  or  that  I  know  a  most 
mundane  set.  Yes,  it  must  be  pleasant  to  have 
a  healthy  bank  account.  Think  of  what  money 
can  do.  It  could  buy  me  leisure,  to  study  and 
to  write.  If  I  were  rich,  I  should  be  kind  to 
young  girls.  There  are  so  many  ways  in  which 
one  could  be  kind  without  laying  them  under  a 
sense  of  obligation.  There  are  tickets  for  con- 
certs and  theatres,  and  gloves  and  flowers  and 
pretty  handkerchiefs,  — you  have  no  idea  how 
much  fine  handkerchiefs  cost,  Gregory.  The 
rich  deserve  no  credit  at  all  for  being  amiable ; 
they  can  make  so  many  other  people  happy 
that  the  pleasure  must  envelop  even  themselves. 
I  can  imagine  life  under  given  circumstances  a 
very  beautiful  thing." 

"And  now?  "  he  questioned. 

"And  now  I  should  be  glad  to  have  done 
with  it  all.  If  I  could  clasp  death,  with  all  its 
mystery  to  me  now,  by  putting  forth  my  hand, 


A    HOUSE   OF    CARDS.  53 

I  should  reach  for  it.  Yes,  I  should  like  to  go 
in  search  of  the  great  '  Perhaps.'  " 

"Hush,"  he  commanded,  taking  in  his  own 
her  outstretched  hand.  "  You  blaspheme." 

"  Do  I?  "  she  demanded,  wonderingly. 
"  Death  to  me  is  a  promise  of  peace.  To  you, 
you  who  believe  so  firmly  in  that  heaven  of 
yours,  I  should  think  my  wish  would  seem  only 
youthful  impatience  to  arrive  at  the  goal." 

"  Are  you  any  the  happier  for  disbelieving  in 
heaven?  You  would  be  more  content  if  you 
did  not  fill  your  mind  with  Spinoza,  Tyndall, 
Weis  —  " 

"  They  do  not  make  me  discontented.  There 
is  nothing  beautiful  to  me  in  your  idea  of 
heaven,  —  it  is  too  earthy.  Why  should  I  not 
read  the  books  I  like  ?  I  disbelieved  what  you 
believe  long  before  I  read,  and  I  have  always 
demanded  the  right  to  think  for  myself.  I  pre- 
fer to  pay  the  toll  and  get  out  on  thought's 
highway ;  I  can't  vegetate  in  blind  faith.  And 
so  you  do  not  wish  to  go  to  heaven  yet  a 
while  ? "  she  persisted,  gravely. 

"No." 

"  Ah,  I  have  noticed  that  those  who  believe 
most  firmly  in  it,  object  most  strenuously  to 
going  there.  For  myself,  I  hope  to  go  before 


54  A   HOUSE  OF   CARDS. 

old  age  overtakes  me.  I  always  thought 
Mohammed's  dictum,  that  old  women  were  to 
be  excluded  from  Paradise,  a  wise  one,  only  he 
modified  it  by  saying  they  would  first  be  made 
young  again.  My  eyes  are  already  beginning 
to  wear  out.  You  cannot  imagine  how  much 
they  trouble  me  to-night." 

"You  use  them  too  much,"  he  frowned. 
"  But  they  look  well." 

"  I  know,  but  they  burn,"  she  murmured, 
pressing  her  fingers  upon  her  heavily  fringed 
lids.  "  I  suppose  the  day  will  yet  come  when  I 
shall  adorn  a  corner  of  Kearny  Street,  a  shade 
over  my  eyes  and  a  placard  on  my  breast : 
'  Please  bestow  a  glance  and  a  nickle  on  one 
who  can  bestow  neither.'  I  wonder,  would  I 
have  many  pence  given  me?" 

"  You  would  if  you  let  your  eyes  speak  for 
you,"  Kendall  could  not  refrain  from  saying. 
Loys  certainly  could  coax  compliments  from 
one  unawares. 

"  So  you  won  your  Company's  suit.  You  do 
not  know  how  proud  I  am  of  your  success." 

"Really,  Loys?"  he  began,  his  face  bright- 
ening with  pleasure.  "I  did  not  think  you 
would  care  or —  " 

"  Of  course    I   care,"    she  hurried  on.     "  I 


A    HOUSE   OF   CARDS.  55 

like  to  know  the  successful  of  the  land.  Will 
you  come  to  see  me  when  I  am  forty  and  still 
only  a  teacher  and  you  are  a  famous  lawyer?  " 

"What  do  I  care  for  success  without  you  —  " 

She  laughed  nervously  as  she  broke  in  :  "  It 
is  strange  we  two  should  be  peering  into  the 
future  when  I  just  reprimanded  some  one  for 
speaking  of  a  certain  Mrs.  Wills  who  solves  the 
riddle  of  life  for  so  much  an  hour.  Why  do  we 
wish  to  pierce  the  veil?  Generally  the  future 
is  only,  as  the  French  have  it,  '  a  black-bird 
painted  white.'  " 

"  Do  even  the  school-girls  speak  of  Mrs. 
Wills?"  he  queried.  "Dr.  Haswell  and  Dr. 
Wheaton  are  intensely  interested  in  her.  She 
lives  in  the  same  block  that  I  do,  —  you  know 
that  Queen  Anne  cottage  set  back  in  a  garden, 
—  and  you  would  be  astonished  to  see  whom 
she  numbers  among  her  clients.  Wheaton 
mentioned  her  apropos  of  some  of  Yorke's 
experiences  in  India.  By  the  way,  did  I  tell 
you  that  Yorke  and  Van  Arsdale  go  to  Alaska 
to-morrow?  " 

"  I  should  like  to  belong  to  your  club,  too. 
You  meet  men  of  brain  and  wit  there,  and  the 
club  always  entertains  the  well-known  people 
who  come  here.  It  can't  help  but  do  a  man 


56  A   HOUSE  OF   CARDS. 

good  to  rub  up  against  bright  minds  —  the 
friction  will  sometimes  even  bring  a  spark  or 
two  from  us." 

"  That  means  that  I  am  not  —  " 

"  A  sorcerer,"  she  completed,  rising.  "  Now 
you  must  go." 

He  rose  regretfully.  "Must  I?  Before  I 
go,  promise  me  you  will  not  use  your  eyes  any 
more  to-night." 

"  Don't  trouble  about  me.  You  know  I 
would  not  about  you  even  if  you  were  blind." 

"  In  that  case  you  would  persuade  yourself 
you  had  always  cared  for  me,  and  offer  to 
become  my  life-long  nurse.  Some  day  I  shall 
make  believe  I  am  ill  and  poor,  and  so  get  you 
to  consent  —  Oh,  love,  think  how  happy  we 
would  be  in  the  little  home  you  would  furnish 
to  your  liking  !  You  would  have  time  to  write, 
and  I  should  not  ask  much  of  you.  Only  give 
me  the  right  to  care  for  you," 

She  moved  her  hands  restlessly  in  his  grasp. 
"  You  promised  you  would  not  bring  up  the  old 
subject  again,  and  the  very  next  time  you  come, 
it  all  begins  anew.  We  must  give  up  our 
attempt  at  friendship  since  you  will  not  be  con- 
tent to  have  me  for  a  friend ;  and  I  cannot  be 
more.  You  must  not  come  —  " 


A    HOUSE   OF   CARDS.  57 

He  caught  her  in  his  arms  and  kissed  her 
warm  red  lips.  A  moment  later,  he  set  her 
free. 

"Go,"  she  breathed.  "You,  too,  must  now 
realize  we  can  continue  this  no  longer." 

He  did  not  trust  himself  to  speak. 

She  left  his  note  of  apology  unanswered,  and 
refused  to  see  him  when  he  called.  But  she 
missed  him  in  the  days  which  followed.  She 
had  sometimes  looked  upon  his  frequent  com- 
ings with  resentment ;  but  they  had  been  a 
break  in  the  monotony  of  her  life,  and  with- 
out him  and  his  admiration  of  her,  and  his 
gossip  of  men  in  whose  work  she  was  interested, 
her  days  seemed  more  insipid  than  before. 

On  the  following  Saturday  afternoon  she 
chanced  to  pay  a  call  in  the  same  street  as  that 
in  which  Kendall  lodged.  On  the  way  home, 
she  paused  before  an  old-fashioned  garden,  her 
eyes  held  by  the  wealth  of  pansies  and  roses 
and  heliotropes  abloom  in  sweet  confusion. 

"  I  should  like  the  people  who  live  here,"  she 
decided.  She  glanced  at  the  house :  it  was  a 
white  Queen  Anne  cottage.  Without  giving 
herself  time  to  think,  she  opened  the  iron 
gate. 

She  had  recognized  the  house  as  that  of  Mrs. 


58  A    HOUSE   OF   CARDS. 

Wills,  and  had  been  overcome  by  a  desire  to 
meet  the  woman.  Like  Laura  Yorke,  she 
thought  it  might  be  interesting  as  an  experience. 
If  she  told  her  anything  of  the  future —  Well, 
if  it  were  not  to  be  a  bright  one,  it  would 
be  beneficial  to  have  done  with  hope,  and  if 
it  — 

"  Is  Mrs.  Wills  at  home? "  Loys  asked,  bow- 
ing to  the  woman  who  answered  her  ring. 

"  Yes,  but  —  Did  you  wish  to  see  her  in 
regard  to  a  reading?  I  am  sorry,  but  my 
daughter  does  not  read  on  Saturday.  Her 
work  is  taxing,  and  she  needs  the  two  days  of 
rest." 

Loys  turned  away,  disappointed.  She  liked 
the  woman's  cultured  voice,  and  the  arrange- 
ment of  the  hall,  of  which  she  caught  a  fleeting 
glimpse,  pleased  her  artistic  tastes.  She  would 
have  liked  to  penetrate  further. 

"  I  am  sorry  to  have  disturbed  you  need- 
lessly," she  murmured. 

"  Would  you  care  to  make  an  appointment 
for  the  coming  week?" 

"  It  is  impossible  for  me  to  come  except  on 
a  Saturday." 

The  old  lady  opened  the  door  further.  "  Per- 
haps my  daughter  will  give  you  a  sitting,  any- 


A   HOUSE   OF   CARDS.  59 

way.  Your  face  interests  me,  and  I  am  sure  it 
will  interest  her." 

She  ushered  Loys  into  a  cosey  sitting-room, 
which  was  unoccupied,  and  left  her  alone. 
Loys  looked  about  her  curiously. 

"  Suppose  Kate  Tisdall  or  Laura  Yorke  should 
see  me  now,"  she  thought,  in  alarm,  but  still  in 
gleeful  enjoyment  of  her  position,  "or  Miss 
Eastlake  ! " 

She  had  barely  time  to  compose  her  face 
when  Mrs.  Wills,  a  stately  woman  of  some 
thirty-five  years,  entered  the  room. 

"  I  am  afraid,"  faltered  Loys,  "  that  I  had  no 
right  to  intrude  upon  your  well-deserved  leisure, 
but  your  mother — " 

"Yes,  mother  told  me.  I  inherit  my  gift 
from  her,  and  she  is  much  interested  in  you. 
Will  you  sit  here?"  she  proceeded,  motioning 
to  a  small  table  and  taking  her  seat  opposite 
Loys.  "  Remove  your  gloves,  please,  and  lay 
your  hands  in  mine,  palms  downward.  You 
are  a  sceptic,  I  see." 

"  But  willing  to  be  convinced,"  smiled  Loys. 

"  That  is  broad,  even  for  this  century  of  pro- 
gression," commented  Mrs.  Wills.  "  I  may  be 
able  to  see  for  you,  perhaps  not ;  the  influences 
may  be  unfavorable.  As  I  am  a  pantheist,  you 


60  A   HOUSE    OF    CARDS. 

will  understand  I  claim  nothing  phenomenal  for 
my  gift,  which  is  cultivated ;  I  believe  every 
one  possesses  this  psychometrical  power  in  a 
degree.  If  I  close  my  eyes,  it  is  only  that  my 
thoughts  may  not  be  diverted  :  I  wish  to  get 
my  inner  self  into  communication  with  your 
inner  soul.  Mrs.  Denton  (whose  name,  I  pre- 
sume, is  not  unfamiliar  to  you),  if  given  a  bit  cf 
the  skeleton  or  the  fragment  of  the  tooth  of 
some  antedeluvian  animal,  saw  it  as  it  had 
existed.  When  given  a  bit  of  some  article 
belonging  to  a  person,  she  could  construct  from 
it  the  person,  as  the  naturalist  can  build  up 
from  a  bit  of  fossil  the  whole  creature.  I  am 
a  believer  in  the  doctrine  that  what  we  have 
been  makes  us  what  we  are.  And  now  that  I 
have  completed  my  tedious  explanation,  we 
will  proceed." 

A  strong  current  of  electricity  had  been 
communicated  to  Loys  from  Mrs.  Wills's 
hands. 

"You  have  two  sisters,"  observed  the  me- 
dium, almost  at  once,  in  a  conversational  tone, 
"  both  younger  than  you.  And  your  mother  I 
see  quite  plainly,  too.  Care-worn  and  thin,  — 
farm-life  is  so  wearing,  —  but  still  with  a  look  of 
you  about  the  eyes.  I  hear  your  father  calling 


A    HOUSE   OF   CARDS.  6l 

her  'Deb — '."  She  paused  uncertainly,  then 
added,  "Deborah,  is  it  not?" 

"Yes,"  breathed  the  girl. 

"Your  father  has  been  dead  these  twenty 
years.  His  name  begins  with  a  J  —  " 

"  No,"  broke  in  Loys,  "  my  father  is  still 
alive." 

Mrs.  Wills's  brow  contracted.  "  Then  who 
is  this  man  who  passed  away  many  years  ago, 
whose  name  began  with  a  J,  J  —  ?  It  escapes 
me." 

The  woman  pondered  for  a  moment,  then 
dropped  Loys's  hands. 

"  I  am  sorry,  but  I  can  do  nothing  for  you 
to-day.  I  should  have  told  you  your  father's 
name  and  your  own,  by  this  time,  without  error. 
There  will  be  no  charge,  of  course." 

Loys  put  forth  her  hand  impetuously. 

"Will  you  not  make  me  one  more  at- 
tempt?" she  pleaded.  "You  have  interested 
me  deeply." 

The  woman  yielded  under  the  entreating 
eyes.  She  again  took  Loys's  hands  within  her 
own,  and  her  eyes  closed. 

"Who  is  this  Andrew  I  see?  "  she  murmured, 
after  a  little. 

"  My  father,"  exclaimed   Loys,  before  per- 


62  A    HOUSE    OF    CARDS. 

ceiving  that  the  question  had  not  been  addressed 
to  her. 

"  Her  father,"  repeated  Mrs.  Wills.  "  A 
hard,  cold  man,  and  yet  not  so  hard  that  he  did 
not  once  forgive  a  grievous  wrong.  You  nursed 
him  through  an  illness  a  short  time  ago,  but  he 
is  now  quite  well.  I  see  no  changes  on  the 
farm  for  many  years  to  come,  except  that  your 
second  sister  will  marry  in  December." 

In  the  silence  which  ensued,  the  girl's  breath 
came  thick  and  fast.  It  seemed  extremly  pro- 
bable that  Laura  would  marry  Will  Harland, 
although  there  was,  as  yet,  no  formal  engage- 
ment, and  as  Mrs.  Wills  formed  her  sentences, 
Loys  listened  intently  for  what  she  would  say 
touching  her  own  future.  She  felt  impelled  to 
wrest  her  hands  free,  but  was  powerless  to 
move.  What  folly  it  was  to  fear  this  —  guess- 
work ! 

"  Loys,"  recommenced  the  woman,  hesitat- 
ingly, although  the  girl  started  at  the  sound  of 
her  own  name  on  the  stranger's  lips,  "  Loys, 
are  you  going  to  marry  this  man  who  has  been 
wanting  you  so  long?  What  a  hard  little  toiler 
you  are,  child,  and  always  with  the  brain.  The 
teaching  has  grown  wearisome  lately.  But  do 
not  attempt  another  book  now,  when  it  would 


A    HOUSE   OF    CARDS.  63 

mean  night-work.  Take  care  of  your  eyes  and 
you  have  nothing  to  fear,  but  do  not  abuse 
them.  Yet  the  book  would  be  a  success,  —  the 
first  was  written  when  you  were  too  young. 
What  do  the  two  ways  to  Europe  mean,  and 
both  come  so  soon  ?  You  are  going  to  Europe 
within  two  months,  but  I  am  afraid  it  is  with 
the  wrong  one." 

Then  she  looked  off  over  the  years,  Loys 
leaning  still  further  forward  ;  but  what  the  woman 
said  would  interest  only  Loys. 

"  And  the  man  named  J ,  he  is  so  near, 

yet  so  indistinct,"  murmured  Mrs.  Wills,  open- 
ing her  eyes.  "  Have  I  told  you  the  truth?  " 
she  asked,  looking  into  the  girl's  distended  eyes. 

"  There  were  some  things  which  were  true 
and  some  I  wish  would  come  true,  but  do  not 
believe  will,  and  some  —  But  they  are  a  long 
way  off.  I  shall  not  let  the  thought  of  them 
trouble  me  now." 

"  That  is  right.  I  may,  too,  have  been  mis- 
taken about  them,"  Mrs.  Wills  prompted,  with 
a  desire  to  soothe  her  manifest  excitement. 
"  As  a  usual  thing  I  remember  nothing  of  what 
I  have  seen,  —  my  thoughts  crowd,  my  glimpse 
is  so  fleeting,  —  but  I  wish  to  caution  you  against 
some  one  who  is  withholding  something  from 


64  A    HOUSE   OF   CARDS. 

you,  something  it  is  of  vital  importance  you 
should  know." 

Loys  smiled  with  cheerful  incredulity.  The 
few  people  who  came  at  all  into  her  life  she 
knew  she  could  trust  until  death. 

"  You  have  prophesied  success  for  me,  and 
you  have  promised  me  a  trip  to  Europe  within 
two  months,  which  is  as  unlikely  as  — 

Mrs.  Wills  smiled. 

"What  confidence  you  have  in  yourself!" 
whispered  Loys.  "  You  do  not  know  what  else 
you  said.  But  it  is  a  long  way  off;  I  will  not 
think  of  it." 

"  Do  you  regret  that  you  came  ?  Oh,  I  am 
sorry  if  I  have  —  " 

"No,  I  am  not  sorry  I  came,"  interrupted 
Loys ;  but  she  shuddered  as  if  grown  suddenly 
cold. 


Chapter   V. 

9 

|ISS  EASTLAKE'S  institute  was  an  im- 
posing structure,  which  haughtily  reared 
its  head,  in  prim,  starched-like  respectability 
of  mien,  tall  and  narrow,  dark  and  stern  (not 
unlike  Miss  Eastlake  herself),  far  above  the 
surrounding  buildings.  To  Loys  Yerrington, 
the  round,  stained-glass  window  in  the  front  of 
the  edifice  always  seemed  to  frown  darkly  down 
upon  her  in  grim  disapproval,  as  Miss  Eastlake 
had  a  habit  of  doing  when  thwarted. 

Loys's  room  was  on  the  highest  floor,  on  the 
corner.  In  the  evening,  when  she  was  at  length 
free,  she  would  draw  her  low  chair  to  the  window 
and  look  out  over  the  encircling  roofs  to  the 
bay  in  the  distance,  and  dream  impossible 
dreams. 

That  night  her  dreams  were  not  pleasant 
ones. 

She  had  turned  the  light  down  until  it  was 
the  merest  glimmer,  for  her  head  was  throbbing 
madly  and  her  eyes  burned. 
5 


66  A    HOUSE   OF   CARDS. 

"  I  suppose  I  should  go  to  bed,"  she  medi- 
tated doubtfully.  "  But  it  seems  such  a 
waste  of  time  when  I  have  so  much  to  do. 
Dr.  Parker  said  I  must  not  use  my  eyes  at 
night,  nor  any  more  than  possible  during  the 
day.  Yet  what  am  I  to  do  if  I  may  not  read 
at  night?" 

She  took  up  a  letter  bearing  the  imprint  of  a 
well-known  publishing  house,  which  she  had 
perused  more  than  once  that  day,  and  read 
again  :  — 

"  We  have  read  with  very  lively  interest  your  novel, 
'  The  Reverse  Side,'  and  beg  you  to  believe  that  we 
are  by  no  means  blind  to  its  many  and  obvious 
excellences  of  both  substance  and  form,  although 
we  must  regretfully  conclude  that  we  shall  be 
unable  to  add  it  to  our  list.  We  do  not  publish 
so  much  fiction  as  some  houses,  and  trust  you  will 
readily  find  some  other  publishers  more  confident 
than  we  can  quite  bring  ourselves  to  be  that  your 
book  will  meet  the  difficult  conditions  of  success- 
ful novel  publication,  at  present.  We  return  the 
MS.  by  express,  and  hope  you  will  accept  our 
sincere  thanks  for  the  opportunity  of  considering 
it." 

"  The  book  must  have  merit,  or  they  would 
not  write  me  such  a  letter,"  Loys  declared,  "  but 


A    HOUSE   OF   CARDS.  67 

I  can  see  its  faults  now.  If  I  had  only  the  time 
to  write  the  plot  I  have  in  mind  !  I  am  more 
mature  now.  I  began  to  write  that  book  when 
I  was  twenty-two,  and  it  has  been  to  four  firms. 
Each  one  keeps  it  about  three  months,  and  two 
weeks  are  consumed  in  its  forwarding  to  New 
York  and  return.  What  a  disadvantage  we 
labor  under  here,  away  from  all  literary  or  musi- 
cal atmosphere,  —  from  every  art-center.  In 
less  than  a  fortnight  vacation  will  be  here,  and 
I  shall  go  to  the  farm.  But  there  will  be  no 
time  for  writing  there,  for  Laura  will  wish  me  tp 
help  her  with  her  trousseau.  I  hate  the  thought 
of  going :  I  am  ashamed  of  it,  but  I  cannot 
overcome  it.  How  can  Laura  love  Will  Har- 
land?  He  is  so  odiously  funny  and  petty. 
And  he  drinks,  —  she  knows  he  does,  and  that 
his  father  was  a  dipsomaniac.  Oh,  she  has  no 
right  to  marry  him  and  entail  such  misery  on 
her  children.  I  wonder  if  she  really  loves  him, 
or  whether  it  is  only  the  desire  to  escape  from 
the  hard  ugliness  of  her  life  and  to  have  a  home 
of  her  own  which  prompts  her  to  marry  him. 

"  It  is  always  an  alluring  thought  to  a  woman, 
—  that  of  having  a  home  of  her  own,"  she 
continued.  "I  know  I  should  assume  such 
matronly  airs  if  I  were  the  mistress  of  a  six- 


68  A   HOUSE   OF    CARDS. 

roomed  house,  and  order  my  little  servant 
about  simply  to  feel  a  delightful  sense  of  author- 
ity. And  in  the  evening,  when  he  came  home, 
and  we  sat  down  to  our  dainty  table  —  " 

She  levelled  her  cottage-building  to  the  ground 
with  a  harsh  laugh,  and  raised  the  gas  defiantly. 
The  words  "  Chapter  IV  "  stared  up  at  her  from 
the  note-book  she  opened.  She  had  begun  the 
story  a  few  days  after  her  interview  with  Mrs. 
Wills.  She  had  no  faith  in  the  prophecy  that 
she  would  shortly  go  to  Europe,  but  she  be- 
lieved success  might  be  hers  if  she  could  but 
find  the  time  to  write  another  book.  She  had 
disregarded  the  advice  not  to  tax  her  eyes,  and 
had  been  forced  to  go  to  the  oculist.  For  the 
past  few  days  she  had  adhered  to  his  directions, 
but  the  story  had  been  continuously  in  her 
thoughts,  and  now  the  words  trembled  at  the 
nib  of  her  pen,  and  hurriedly  dissolved  them- 
selves into  ink. 

Two  pages  were  soon  covered,  and  then  the 
lines  began  to  dance  before  her  eyes.  She  set  her 
lips  firmly  and  commenced  the  third,  but  soon 
it  was  all  a  hopeless  blur.  The  pen  fell  from 
her  nerveless  fingers,  and  she  again  turned  low 
the  lights  as  if  to  hide  from  herself  her  blinding 
tears.  She  caught  her  quivering  lip  between 


A   HOUSE   OF   CARDS.  69 

her  sharp,  white  teeth,  to  choke  back  the  heavy 
sobs  which  threatened  to  suffocate  her.  She 
must  not  cry,  she  would  not  cry,  when  she  knew 
tears  would  injure  her  eyes. 

Some  one  rapped  at  the  door. 

"  What  is  it,  Jane  ?  "  she  asked. 

The  maid  handed  her  Kendall's  card.  Across 
its  face  he  had  written,  "Do  not  refuse  to 
see  me.  I  have  come  only  to  bid  you  good- 
by." 

She  hesitated  momentarily,  then  left  the  room. 
It  would  be  well  to  escape  her  rabid  thoughts 
for  a  time. 

As  she  entered  the  apartment  in  which  Ken- 
dall awaited  her,  she  involuntarily  covered  her 
eyes  to  shield  them  from  the  glare  of  the  lights. 
Kendall  paled  at  the  action,  then  quickly  extin- 
guished two  of  the  gas  jets  and  lowered  the 
third. 

"Have  you  been  caring  for  your  eyes?"  he 
demanded.  "  Are  they  better? " 

She  looked  at  him  in  cold  wonderment. 
"  How  did  you  know  they  have  been  troubling 
me?" 

"  I  saw  you  go  into  Parker's  office,  and  when 
you  came  out  you  looked  so  frightened  that  I 
went  in  myself,"  he  explained,  with  simple 


7O  A    HOUSE    OF    CARDS. 

directness.     "  Dr.  Parker    is  an  old    friend   of 
mine." 

"  You  had  no  right —  " 

"  No,  I  know ;  but  I  could  not  help  myself." 

He  looked  so  humble,  so  conscious  of  his 
wrong-doing,  that  Loys  felt  a  mad  inclination  to 
laugh,  for  generally  Kendall  wore  a  rather  self- 
satisfied,  autocratic  air. 

"  Have  you  been  ill?  "  she  queried,  in  quick 
self-reproach,  as  she  noticed  his  wan  face  and 
dejected  attitude. 

"No.  Loys,  Loys,  what  heavy  punishment 
you  can  mete  out  without  a  qualm  ! " 

"  It  was  a  wise  decree,  and  if  you  persist  you 
will  make  me  regret  having  seen  you.  If  you 
only  make  an  effort  you  can  displace  me  from 
your  heart,  and  after  a  little  some  pretty,  young 
girl  will  enter  your  life,  who  will  love  you  entirely, 
and  whom  you  will  —  " 

"Don't.  It  hurts  me  to  see  you  placidly 
arranging  my  marriage  to  another.  If  I  should 
ever  hear  of  your  marriage  —  "  His  face  set 
in  an  expression  of  cruel,  malignant  hatred. 
"  So  Laura  is  going  to  marry  Will  Harland,"  he 
proceeded.  "  Are  you  glad?  " 

"Why  should  I  pretend  to  be  glad  to  you?  " 
she  demurred.  "I  think  him  altogether  un- 


A   HOUSE   OF    CARDS.  ^\ 

worthy  of  Laura  —  you  do  not  know  how  unsel- 
fish she  is.  She  loves  him,  but,  oh,  she  has  no 
right  to  marry  him.  We  who  have  always  known 
him  are  aware  he  drinks,  and  that  it  is  an  in- 
herited weakness.  Last  summer,  when  I  saw 
how  matters  were  tending,  I  did  my  utmost  to 
open  her  eyes  to  the  wrong  she  would  be  doing, 
but  she  would  not  listen.  If  she  would  be  harm- 
ing only  herself,  I  should  have  said  no  word ; 
but  she  has  no  right  to  perpetuate  misery.  It 
is  criminal." 

"Suppose  you  loved  Will  Harland,  with  a 
love  which  filled  your  whole  being,  would  you 
not  marry  him? "  He  watched  her  with  covert 
eagerness. 

"  No,  I  would  not.  I  would  rather  die  ten 
thousand  deaths  than  marry  such  a  man,"  she 
declared,  with  quiet  firmness. 

"  You  do  not  know  what  you  would  do,"  he 
broke  forth,  fiercely. 

The  girl  was  too  weary  to  carry  the  discus- 
sion farther.  With  partially  closed  eyes,  she 
leaned  against  the  cushions  and  watched  him 
idly  as  he  clutched  at  the  inoffending  tassel  of 
his  arm-chair. 

"  He  is  looking  especially  handsome  and 
well-groomed  to-night,"  she  meditated.  "  It 


72  A    HOUSE   OF    CARDS. 

would  be  well  for  Gregory  if  he  could  have  a 
new  suit  every  day  in  the  week.  His  clothes 
lose  their  first  freshness  so  soon.  I  believe  he 
leaves  them  in  an  unsightly  mass  on  the  floor, 
as  they  fall  from  him.  It  is  strange  he  should 
be  so  careless  in  that  regard,  for  his  linen  is 
always  immaculate,  and  he  is  more  than  par- 
ticular about  his  person.  Yet  I  have  seen  him 
wear  clothes  sadly  in  need  of  a  brushing ;  and  it 
is  easier  to  forgive  a  spot  on  a  man's  character 
than  one  on  his  clothes.  It  seems  to  me  I  see 
a  great  deal  too  much,"  she  deplored.  "  It  is 
a  mistake  to  know  people  too  intimately.  I 
always  admired  Dante  more  before  I  learned 
that  he  sometimes  did  not  change  his  linen  for 
weeks." 

"  Tell  me  something  about  the  condition  of 
your  eyes,"  he  urged.  "  Have  you  been  obey- 
ing Parker's  instructions?" 

"  I  cannot  do  otherwise.  They  refuse  to 
permit  me  to  work." 

"  Do  you  wish  me  to  read  to  you  now?  And 
all  this  week  is  at  your  disposal." 

In  her  tired  state  his  kindness  touched  her 
inexpressibly.  "You  are  too  kind  to  me,  dear 
old  Greg,"  she  whispered,  tremulously. 

It  comforted  her  to  have  him  with  her. 


A   HOUSE   OF   CARDS.  73 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do  with  your  even- 
ings?" he  asked. 

"  Every  one  has  been  more  than  good,  and 
has  offered  to  read  or  write  for  me,  but  —  " 

"  You  never  did  like  any  one  to  read  to  you. 
Poor  little  girl,"  he  murmured,  under  his 
breath. 

"  Don't  remind  me  of  unpleasant  things," 
she  cautioned,  trying  to  speak  lightly.  "At 
least  I  am  rich  in  one  very  good  friend." 

"  I  want  you  to  listen  to  what  I  am  going  to 
say  now  as  coming  simply  from  your  friend. 
Let  me  speak  on  to  the  end,  once  and  for  all. 
As  I  told  you,  I  have  seen  Parker,  and  he  says 
you  must  never  again  abuse  your  eyes  as  you 
have  in  the  past.  If  you  cannot  work  for  your- 
self at  night,  I  know  how  unhappy  you  will  be. 
Can  you  not  persuade  yourself  that  you  like  me 
enough  to  give  yourself  into  my  keeping?  I 
should  try  not  to  fret  you  by  my  love.  You 
would  have  time  for  your  studies  and  work,  and 
to  arrange  and  rearrange  your  hair  —  how  many 
times  a  day  do  you  wish  to  do  it?  And  there 
would  be  your  light  household  duties,  and  time 
enough  to  be  womanly,  as  you  phrase  it.  Do 
you —  " 

"  I  cannot  let  you  go  on,"  she  moaned,  inter- 
lacing her  fingers. 


74  A    HOUSE   OF    CARDS. 

"  And  you  would  teach  the  cook  all  your 
famous  recipes,"  he  went  on,  unheeding  her 
interruption,  although  his  fingers  closed  still 
more  savagely  about  the  tassel.  "  What  a 
pretty  home  it  would  be,  with  all  the  modest 
little  articles  of  vertu  we  should  accumulate  in 
Europe  !  "  he  concluded,  playing  his  last  card. 

"  Are  you  going  to  Europe  ?  "  she  cried. 

"Did  I  forget  to  tell  you?"  he  asked,  with 
cunning  hypocrisy.  "  It  is  about  the  affairs  of 
the  Williams  estate  that  I  am  going.  I  leave 
in  ten  days,  and  shall  be  away  three  months. 
Not  a  long  while,  but  there  will  be  time  to  see 
something  of  the  Old  World." 

"  How  glad  I  am  you  are  going,  and  how 
I  shall  miss  you,  dear  old  Greg  !  "  She  realized 
the  truth  of  her  words.  The  city  would  seem 
bleak  and  desolate  without  him.  It  was  true 
she  had  not  seen  him  within  the  past  month, 
but  she  knew  he  was  within  reach. 

"  Why  should  you  be  sorry  to  see  the  last  of 
an  ogre?"  he  said,  with  a  sad  smile.  "You 
will  be  about  going  to  the  farm,  and  in  the 
festive  time  of  Laura's  wedding  you  will  not 
devote  a  single  thought  to  me.  You  know, 
Will  Harland  and  his  followers  always  make  a 
merry  time  for  themselves." 


A    HOUSE   OF    CARDS.  75 

She  repressed  a  shudder.  The  thought  of 
going  to  the  farm  and  meeting  Will  Harland 
and  his  friends  weighed  upon  her  remorselessly. 

"  I  suppose  I  must  not  detain  you  longer," 
he  added. 

With  a  dim  sense  of  pain  she  watched  him 
rise.  How  powerful  and  strong  he  looked,  and 
how  weak  and  weary  she  felt. 

His  subtle  instincts  told  him  that  a  word  too 
much  or  a  word  too  little  would  make  or  mar 
his  life's  happiness.  His  nerves  were  strung  to 
the  utmost  tension,  though  he  was  outwardly 
collected.  Never  before  had  he  been  so  alert 
to  her  needs  as  that  night. 

He  knelt  down  and  stole  his  arm  about  her, 
saying,  softly,  "  Can't  you  decide  to  make  me 
happy,  Loys?" 

She  felt  his  arm,  but  she  was  so  weary  that  she 
was  glad  of  it.  Suddenly  she  sat  erect,  pushing 
him  away.  The  moment  was  pregnant  with 
importance  to  them  both. 

"  Wait,"  she  breathed,  her  face  feverishly 
aglow.  "  Let  me  be  honest  with  you  and  show 
you  my  true  self.  It  is  the  thought  of  seeing 
Europe  which  is  bribing  me,  and  the  fact  that  I 
shall  have  time  to  write.  If  it  were  not  for 
that,  I  should  not  —  " 


76  A    HOUSE   OF   CARDS. 

"I  know,  sweet,"  the  man  interrupted,  in 
mad  triumph. 

"  Suppose  that  afterward  there  should  come 
into  my  life  a  man  —  " 

He  crushed  her  to  him  in  quick  fright. 
"  There  will  be  none  such,"  he  affirmed, 
jealously. 

"  We  have  known  each  other  so  long  there  is 
no  danger  that  we  are  being  deceived.  Even 
under  existing  circumstances,  you  are  sure  you 
want  me?  "  she  asked,  with  a  pretence  at  grave 
humility. 

He  drew  her  hands  to  his  mouth  and  kissed 
them  passionately.  "  Don't  you  know  what  you 
are  to  me?  "  he  whispered,  hoarsely. 

She  bent  down  and  put  her  arms  about  his 
neck,  faltering,  "  I  will  try  to  make  you  happy. 
At  least  you  shall  never  regret  marrying  me, 
dear." 

He  was  careful  to  alarm  her  by  no  outburst 
of  feeling.  He  realized  that  he  must  restrain 
himself  at  all  hazards  ;  and  she  thought  it 
restful  to  give  in  and  be  cared  for. 

With  his  keen  perception  of  what  was  best 
for  his  interests,  Kendall,  before  leaving,  in- 
formed Miss  Eastlake  of  Loys's  promise.  The 
marriage  was  set  for  noon  of  the  tenth  day  from 


A   HOUSE   OF    CARDS.  77 

that  evening,  when  they  would  depart  at  once 
for  the  East. 

"  I  wish  your  father  were  here,"  Loys  said. 
"  I  know  he  will  be  glad ;  he  always  said  he 
loved  me  as  a  daughter." 

"  We  shall  see  him  in  London,"  Kendall 
answered.  "  All  my  intimate  friends  are  away. 
Van  Arsdale  and  Yorke  have  not  yet  returned 
from  Alaska,  and  Penelope  Browning  wrote  me 
to-day  that  she  does  not  expect  to  be  here  for 
another  fortnight." 

When  he  finally  left  her,  and  Miss  Eastlake, 
too,  had  ceased  to  murmur  her  regret  at  losing 
her,  Loys  went  to  her  room. 

"  And  so  I  am  to  be  Gregory's  wife  after  all," 
she  reflected,  as  she  sat  down  in  the  old  famil- 
iar attitude.  "  When  I  sat  here  a  short  while 
ago,  furnishing  the  little  home,  he  did  not  sit 
opposite  me  at  table,  but  neither  do  I  know 
who  did.  And  love  —  I  believe  it  exists  only 
in  novels,"  she  asseverated,  "  so  why  should  I 
alarm  myself  over  a  phantom,  the  best  definition 
of  which  I  ever  read  was,  '  Nothing,  of  which 
one  is  afraid.'  When  I  think  of  the  married 
people  I  know,  I  cannot  fasten  upon  one  who 
is  more  in  love  than  I  am,  perhaps,  with 
Gregory.  They  all  seem  to  bear  each  other  a 


78  A    HOUSE    OF    CARDS. 

decorous,  proper  affection.  We  leave  it  to 
dear  unselfish  Gregory  to  be  so  foolish  as  to 
think  more  of  another  than  of  himself.  Per- 
haps I  am  too  self-centered  to  be  capable  of 
an  absorbing  passion.  No,  I  am  not  afraid  of 
the  consequences  of  the  step  I  have  taken." 

She  repeated  the  thought  many  times  in 
different  form,  as  if  to  reassure  herself. 

"  Love  is  so  often  a  fictitious  emotion,"  she 
pursued, "  and  yet  I  wish  I  cared  more  for  him. 
But  every  one  is  agreed  that  sincere  liking 
endures  better  than  love,  so  I  need  not  fear," 
she  concluded,  as  she  imprudently  began  to 
write  to  her  father  and  mother. 

The  reiteration  had  dulled  her  senses.  She 
was  determined  to  close  her  eyes  to  the  fact 
that  she  had  reared  a  house  of  cards  whose 
foundation  rested  not  on  love. 

"  Oh,  the  little  more,  and  how  much  it  is  ! 
And  the  little  less,  and  what  worlds  away  ! " 


Chapter  VI. 


|OYS  never  cared  to  look  back  upon  the 
trip  to  Europe. 

In  the  short  time  which  had  intervened 
between  her  engagement  and  marriage,  Kendall 
had  been  wise  enough  not  to  demand  much  of 
her.  His  delicacy  had  endeared  him  to  her, 
but  the  last  vestige  of  his  consideration  van- 
ished when  he  found  she  was  indissolubly  his. 
He  forgot  his  promise  of  patience  with  her 
until  she  loved  him.  He  remembered  nothing 
but  that  she  was  now  his  wife,  and  she  smiled 
in  mordant  mockery  of  her  confidence  in  his 
vain  promises,  and  told  herself  she  must  not 
forget  he  was  her  husband.  There  was,  how- 
ever, small  danger  of  his  permitting  her  to  for- 
get it. 

If  he  had  been  content  to  keep  his  love 
more  hidden,  it  is  possible  Loys  might  have 
grown  to  love  him ;  but  he  was  too  completely 
overwhelmed  by  his  success  in  having  won  her 
to  temper  his  attentions  with  nice  discretion. 


80  A    HOUSE   OF    CARDS. 

To  have  shown  him,  by  the  smallest  sign, 
that  his  neglect  of  the  conditions  of  his  bond 
fretted  her,  would  have  been  to  recall  to  him 
that  she  had  sold  herself,  and  that  he  was  untrue 
to  the  spirit  of  the  barter.  In  a  measure,  she 
had  forfeited  her  own  self-esteem  by  the  tran- 
saction, and  she  was  unwilling  to  recall  it  to  his 
mind. 

The  run  through  Europe  always  seemed  to 
Loys,  afterward,  a  hideous  nightmare,  broken  by 
some  few  hours  of  happiness.  Kendall  ap- 
peared to  be  imbued  with  a  desire  to  see  things 
simply  to  say  he  had  seen  them,  and  Loys,  an 
unwilling  victim,  was  mercilessly  dragged  hither 
and  thither,  and  hurried  off  again  after  a  tanta- 
lizing vision  of  what  it  had  been  her  life-long 
dream  to  study.  At  first  she  offered  a  spirited 
resistance,  and  Kendall  accommodated  himself 
to  her  promptings.  But  her  enthusiasm  was 
stultified  by  his  lack  of  appreciation  and  evi- 
dent boredom ;  and  as  she  grew  to  recognize 
more  thoroughly  their  unshared  tastes,  she  as- 
sumed, with  indifferent  success,  a  stoical  ignor- 
ing of  her  own  wishes  and  fitted  hers  to  his. 
She  was  benumbed  with  pain  when  she  allowed 
herself  to  linger  on  the  disappointment  of  the 
trip,  and  the  thought  of  what  it  might  have  been. 


A    HOUSE   OF   CARDS.  8 1 

In  London  they  met  Kendall's  father,  with 
whom  Loys  had  always  been  a  great  favorite. 
He  could  not  do  enough  for  her ;  but  he  treated 
his  son  coldly,  and  while  with  him,  Gregory 
was  ill  at  ease  and  surly. 

It  was  at  Paris  on  the  fourth  day  before  their 
return  to  America  that  Loys  first  met  Penelope 
Browning.  Loys  was  alone  when  Penelope's 
card  was  brought  to  her.  Scarcely  had  she  sig- 
nified her  readiness  to  receive  her  visitor  than 
Kendall  appeared. 

"We  shall  be  detained  somewhat,"  Loys 
remarked.  "  Your  friend,  Miss  Browning,  is 
here." 

"  Where  is  the  servant  ?  Tell  him  that  we 
are  not  at  home,"  directed  Kendall,  excitedly. 

It  was  too  late  —  Penelope  was  even  then  on 
the  threshold,  and  he  turned  to  greet  her 
graciously. 

"My  being  here  is  another  proof  of  my 
good-nature,"  averred  Penelope,  as  she  still 
held  Loys's  hand.  "  It  is  not  an  easy  task  to 
forgive  one  who  has  caused  so  great  a  disap- 
pointment as  you  gave  me.  Now  that  I  see 
you,  I  can  scarcely  forgive  you." 

Loys  regarded  her  in  open-eyed  amazement. 
6  r" 


82  A    HOUSE    OF    CARDS. 

"Tell  us  how  you  discovered  that  we  were 
here,"  broke  in  Kendall. 

"  I  had  a  letter  from  Riker  Van  Arsdale.  An 
all-consuming  curiosity  to  meet  you,"  she 
went  on,  turning  to  Loys,  "  impelled  my 
visit  the  moment  I  learned  your  hotel.  You 
know  it  must  always  remain  an  enigma  to  me 
why  you  preferred  Gregory's  chaperonage  to 
mine." 

"  I  am  afraid  I  am  very  stupid,"  Loys  ven- 
tured, smiling  in  perplexed  expectancy,  "  but  I 
do  not  understand." 

Kendall  gnawed  his  mustache  impatiently, 
but  made  no  endeavor  to  explain  matters. 

"  I  believe,"  began  Penelope,  laughing  softly, 
"that  you  are  afraid  of  my  just  anger.  Ah, 
you  should  have  seen  me  when  I  received 
Gregory's  note,  saying  you  thanked  me  for  the 
invitation,  but  preferred  seeing  Europe  under 
his  auspices." 

Before  the  completion  of  the  sentence,  a 
sickening  suspicion  overcame  Loys.  She  darted 
one  quick,  comprehensive  glance  at  her  hus- 
band's disturbed  face,  and  then  a  fixed,  wooden 
smile  settled  itself  upon  her  mouth.  Afterward 
she  flattered  herself  that  she  had  acted  well,  but 
she  did  not  impose  upon  the  woman  opposite 


A    HOUSE   OF   CARDS.  83 

her,  who  would  have  given  much  to  be  able 
to  recall  her  words. 

"  I  shall  always  blame  Riker  Van  Arsdale  for 
not  having  given  me  a  suggestion  as  to  the 
unwarrantable  insolence  of  my  desires,"  Pene- 
lope continued,  flowingly. 

"  And  was  the  choice  I  made  a  wise  one  ?  " 
asked  Loys,  placing  her  hand  on  Kendall's 
chair,  with  a  caressing  smile. 

As  their  eyes  met,  the  two  women  knew  each 
other,  and  each  cried  out  at  the  fraud  which 
had  been  practised. 

Kendall's  agitation  subsided.  He  was  now 
glad  that  Penelope  had  called,  for  he  had 
feared  the  meeting  and  Loys's  anger  at  his 
deception.  Long  ago  he  had  once  seen  Loys 
aroused,  and  it  was  not  an  experience  he 
thought  he  would  care  to  provoke  again. 
Everything  had  passed  so  smoothly,  he  was 
relieved  that  he  would  no  longer  suffer  the 
suspense. 

Penelope  Browning  looked  from  husband  to 
wife  in  bitter  dismay. 

"Some  one  in  San  Francisco  spoke  of  this 
marriage  as  though  she  had  practised  black  art 
to  gain  him,"  she  meditated,  "  and  said  Greg- 
ory Kendall  had  thrown  himself  away  on  a  poor 


84  A   HOUSE    OF    CARDS. 

school-teacher.  Blind  fools  !  could  they  not 
see?  Why  did  I  not  go  to  her  the  night  after 
Laura  mentioned  her?" 

A  short  while  later  she  rose  to  go. 

"  I  wish  you  would  let  me  be  your  guide 
during  the  remainder  of  your  stay  here," 
she  entreated.  "  Can  you  not  give  me  to- 
morrow?" 

"  My  days  will  be  crowded  with  business 
affairs,"  Kendall  declared,  in  reply  to  Loys's 
questioning  eyes,  "  but  I  have  no  doubt  Loys 
will  be  glad  to  be  under  your  guardianship." 

"  What  would  Riker  Van  Arsdale  say  now?  " 
Penelope  pondered,  when  Kendall  had  closed 
the  carriage  door  upon  her.  "  I  know  Gregory 
deceived  her  once ;  I  wonder  if —  Riker  is 
right :  she  is  an  interesting  study.  Only  I  wish 
I  could  feel  that  she  would  not  prove  interest- 
ing to  the  end,  —  that  everything  in  her  life 
would  be  ordinary  and  commonplace.  It  is 
always  safest  so.  When  she  laid  her  hand  on 
his  chair  — "  An  hysterical  little  laugh  es- 
caped her. 

Kendall  returned  to  the  room  with  no  mis- 
givings. An  indefinable  smile  was  upon  Loys's 
lips  as  she  arranged  the  chrysanthemums  Pene- 
lope Browning  had  brought  her.  He  stood 


A    HOUSE   OF   CARDS.  85 

watching  her  in  awkward  silence  for  a  few 
moments,  then  he  hazarded  :  — 

"  Are  you  not  going  to  scold  me  for  my 
deception,  Loys?" 

She  bent  her  head  to  one  side,  gravely  criti- 
cising her  work. 

"  Loys,  don't  say  you  regret  having  married 
me,"  he  cried,  a  sharp  intonation  of  pain  vibrat- 
ing through  his  voice.  "  You  don't,  my  love, 
do  you?" 

"  No,  no,  I  do  not  regret  it,"  she  asserted, 
vehemently,  hiding  her  face  on  his  breast.  "  I 
will  not  regret  it." 

A  listener  would  have  imagined  she  was 
endeavoring  to  persuade  herself  rather  than 
him. 

"Tell  me,"  she  resumed,  after  a  little,  "  had 
you  received  Miss  Browning's  note  that  night  I 
promised  to  marry  you?" 

"  Yes.  Of  course  I  would  have  told  you  of 
her  offer  if  you  had  not  agreed  to  be  my  wife," 
he  affirmed,  with  virtuous  disinterest.  He  had 
already  shaken  from  his  sloping  shoulders  all 
responsibility  of  wrong-doing.  "  Afterward 
there  was  no  need  to  mention  it,  was  there?  " 

There  was  a  moment  of  passionate  contempt, 
then  she  shook  her  head,  too  spent  by  conflict- 


86  A   HOUSE   OF    CARDS. 

ing  emotions  to  contradict  him.  Already  she 
had  learned  to  suffer  and  say  nothing. 

The  dream  of  what  the  journey  might  have 
been  became  a  reality  under  Penelope  Brown- 
ing's chaperonage  during  the  few  days  left 
them.  They  seemed  to  have  known  each  other 
all  their  life  long.  There  was  no  clashing  of 
tastes,  no  jarring  of  ideas,  although  each  as- 
serted her  own  rich  individuality. 

It  was  on  their  last  afternoon  in  Paris  that 
Kendall  received  from  Rome  a  congratulatory 
letter .  from  Bishop  Yorke,  who  apologized  for 
his  neglect  by  stating  that  he  had  expected  to 
meet  them  on  the  continent.  He  wrote  that 
he  had  sent  Mrs.  Kendall  a  ring  which  was 
supposed  to  have  belonged  to  Lucretia  Borgia. 
The  gift  arrived  at  the  same  time.  It  was  a 
ring  of  Etruscan  gold,  of  curious  workmanship, 
which  contained  five  graduated  turquoises,  of 
an  exquisite  blue,  set  horizontally.  Penelope 
Browning  was  with  Loys  when  it  came  to 
hand. 

"By  accident,  Mr.  Yorke  fastened  upon  my 
favorite  stone,"  Loys  commented.  "  I  hope 
the  turquoises  will  not  change  color  now  that 
they  have  come  into  rny  possession." 

"  I  am  not  sure  that  it  was  an   accident," 


A   HOUSE   OF   CARDS.  87 

Penelope  protested,  nonchalantly.  "  He  once 
told  me  that  the  most  becoming  stone  to  a 
pretty  hand  is  a  turquoise  or  a  black  intaglio,  — 
they  bring  out  the  whiteness  of  the  skin.  I 
fancy  he  remembered  what  Laura  said  of  your 
hand." 

"When  was  that?"  queried  Loys,  flushing 
slightly. 

"The  same  night  she  piqued  my  curiosity 
about  you.  You  don't  know  what  a  keen 
admirer  you  have  in  Laura  Yorke." 

"  How  immeasurably  she  did  look  down 
upon  me  !  "  Loys  scoffed,  laughing  incredulously. 
"  I  was  surprised  that  she  saw  me,  —  she  was  so 
far  above  me.  I  envied  Laura  Yorke  her  feel- 
ing of  calm  superiority  over  the  rank  and  file, 
—  it  was  an  impregnable  armor.  But  I  under- 
stand her  brother  is  not  at  all  like  her." 

"I  wish  you  had  met  him,"  murmured 
Penelope  Browning. 


Chapter   VII. 


[OYS  had  not  overestimated  to  herself 
the  charm  she  would  find  in  a  home  of 
her  own. 

Upon  their  return,  Kendall  had  built  for  her, 
on  the  heights  of  the  city,  an  unconventional 
house  which  had  about  it  a  strong  air  of  indi- 
viduality, —  the  result  of  Loys's  frequent  con- 
sultations with  the  architect.  To  the  furnishing 
of  the  house  she  devoted  her  best  endeavors ; 
but  when  it  was  completed  and  they  took 
possession  of  it  on  that  first  night,  Kendall's 
approbation  more  than  recompensed  her.  It 
was  no  longer  a  house :  it  was  a  home. 

Her  household  seemed  to  run  itself,  and 
Loys  insisted  that  it  did. 

"  All  I  do  is  to  go  round  each  morning  with 
my  little  can,  to  oil  up  the  screws  and  joints  of 
the  machinery,"  she  explained  to  Kendall  and 
Van  Arsdale,  one  evening  at  dinner.  "  Don't 
imagine  I  deserve  any  particular  credit :  any 


A   HOUSE   OF   CARDS.  89 

woman  who  is  not  a  fool  can  manage  her  house- 
hold well,  without  much  expense  of  time  or  trou- 
ble. I  am  only  careful  not  to  let  you  see  me 
with  the  oil-can  in  my  hand  and  not  to  seem 
weighted  down  with  my  cares.  I  was  fortunate, 
too,  in  securing  Mary  at  the  start.  When  she 
came  to  us,  nearly  everything  but  a  potato  in 
its  overcoat  was  an  unknown  quantity  to  her. 
But  now  she  duplicates  every  plat  known  to  me 
with  far  greater  skill  than  I  can  master,  and 
you  know  I  claim  to  be  a  culinary  genius.  It 
is  my  one  natural  talent.  Every  month  I  say 
shamefacedly,  'She  must  not  stay  any  longer; 
any  one  would  be  glad  to  give  her  twice  what 
we  pay.'  It  must  be  quite  three  months  since 
Mary  and  I  began  that  pleasant  little  illusion, 
and  still  I  make  no  violent  effort  to  make  her 
go,  and  she  makes  none  either.  I  must  arouse 
myself  soon,  however,  and,  taking  my  courage 
in  my  hands,  send  her  away." 

When  Van  Arsdale  first  commenced  to  fre- 
quent the  house,  Loys  was  not  altogether  at 
her  ease  with  him.  She  feared  she  bored  him, 
for  his  face  rarely  relaxed  into  a  look  of 
interest ;  but  when  she  discovered  that  he  called 
upon  no  other  woman,  and  came  to  her  as  often 
as  twice  a  week,  and  sent  her  books  and  papers 


90  A   HOUSE   OF    CARDS. 

he  had  marked,  she  ceased  to  doubt  his  liking 
for  her. 

They  were  mutually  attracted  intellectually; 
but  she  told  him,  after  a  while,  as  well  as 
Kendall,  the  happenings  of  her  day,  her  house- 
hold experiences,  and  her  trials  and  failures. 
She  never  forgot,  or  allowed  any  one  to  forget, 
that  she  was  primarily  a  woman. 

She  fostered  Kendall's  ambition,  and  made 
him  proud  enough  of  her  good  opinion  to  seek 
to  win  it ;  and  when  he  saw  his  own  progress 
and  the  stride  forward  he  had  made  in  the 
minds  of  those  whose  views  he  respected,  he 
felt  proud  of  himself,  as  well  as  of  his  wife, 
whose  influence  he  recognized. 

She  loved  peace,  but  believed  it  can  be  pur- 
chased at  too  high  a  price  ;  she  was,  however, 
at  all  times  tactful.  When  she  won  Kendall 
over,  she  wore  no  conscious  air  of  triumph,  and 
when  she  yielded,  she  did  so  unconditionally 
and  gracefully.  His  friends  remarked  Kendall's 
improvement ;  and  he  had  improve^  for  Loys 
had  not  hesitated  to  correct  those  faults  it  was 
possible  to  mention  to  him,  without  wounding 
him  unutterably,  as  she  expected  him  to  cor- 
rect her. 

She  had  not  deceived  herself  in  regard  to 


A   HOUSE   OF   CARDS.  91 

her  literary  work.  Upon  returning  from  Europe, 
she  continued  her  novel,  and  brought  it  to  com- 
pletion within  four  months.  Riker  Van  Ars- 
dale  aided  her  much  by  his  criticism,  for  she 
read  the  manuscript  to  him  and  Kendall  before 
sending  it  to  be  typewritten.  It  was  immedi- 
ately accepted  by  one  of  the  foremost  houses 
of  New  York,  and,  upon  its  appearance,  proved 
to  be  one  of  the  successes  of  the  year. 

And  yet,  somehow,  her  success  left  her  dis- 
satisfied and  cold.  She  now  possessed  the  one 
thing  she  had  thought  essential  to  her  happi- 
ness,—  success.  It  may  have  been  that  this 
tingling  wine  had  been  too  long  kept  in  view, 
and  that  she  had  overestimated  its  qualities,  or 
perhaps  it  had  been  too  long  in  the  pouring 
out  and  the  air  had  reached  it ;  for  when  the 
glass  was  held  to  her  lips,  the  wine  was  flat. 
It  had  all  seemed  so  much  better  in  anticipa- 
tion that  she  wondered  dully  if  it  could  have 
been  for  this  tepid  feeling  of  gratification  that 
she  had  so  striven  and  hungered. 

Penelope  Browning  had  returned  shortly 
before  the  appearance  of  the  novel,  and  again 
taken  up  her  abode  in  her  magnificent  resi- 
dence just  a  block  or  two  from  the  Kendall's. 
The  intimacy  had  been  kept  warm  by  numerous 


92  A    HOUSE   OF   CARDS. 

letters,  and  Penelope  quickly  insinuated  herself 
into  the  sunniest  compartments  of  Loys's  affec- 
tions. 

Penelope  took  as  much  satisfaction  in  Loys's 
success  as  if  she  herself  had  written  the  book, 
and  was  inclined  to  quarrel  with  Loys  on 
account  of  her  apathetic  acceptance  of  her 
good-fortune. 

Two  or  three  months  after  the  appearance  of 
the  book  there  came  to  Loys  the  greatest  happi- 
ness which  can  befall  a  woman.  She  jealously 
guarded  the  trembling  hope  to  herself  for  a 
short  time,  but  finally  told  Kendall.  She  was 
thrown  back  upon  herself  by  his  manner  of 
receiving  the  intelligence ;  but  not  even  his  lack 
of  warmth,  his  jealousy  at  the  thought  of  divid- 
ing her  love  with  another,  could  lessen  her 
quiet  joy.  Penelope  Browning's  words  seemed 
cold  and  forced  to  Loys,  but  they  did  not 
wound  her.  She  was  already  transfigured  by 
her  coming  glory,  and  felt  only  a  vague  pity 
for  Kendall  and  Penelope,  because  they  could 
not  fully  enter  into  her  great  happiness. 

Kendall's  temper  was  nervous  and  uneven 
about  that  time,  but  Loys  never  once  was  impa- 
tient. Nothing  seemed  to  fret  or  disturb  her ; 
but  in  the  early  part  of  May  she  began  to  long 


A    HOUSE   OF   CARDS.  93 

for  the  country,  and  as  Kendall  was  called  East 
at  that  moment  on  important  business,  she 
accepted  Penelope's  invitation  to  spend  the 
summer  quietly  with  her  in  her  cottage  at  Ross 
Valley.  They  did  no  entertaining  whatever, 
yet  to  both  the  summer  slipped  away  only  too 
rapidly. 

In  the  latter  part  of  August  they  returned  to 
the  city,  and  Loys  seemed  to  miss  the  long 
days  spent  in  the  open  air ;  but  she  made  no 
murmur,  even  to  her  mother,  who  was  making 
her  a  visit  of  indefinite  length. 

Loys  had  been  so  brave  and  patient  all  along, 
and  so  free  from  fear,  that  she  had  imbued 
those  around  her  with  her  spirit ;  but  in  Sep- 
tember they  almost  lost  her,  as  well  as  the  child, 
whose  life  was  sacrificed  for  the  mother's. 

She  regained  her  strength  slowly ;  there  seemed 
an  utter  want  of  desire  to  live.  There  was  no 
battling  with  her  grief  or  weariness.  Death 
appeared  to  her  a  blessed  relief;  but  when  at 
length  she  found  that  it  does  not  come  because 
of  the  wishing,  and  her  tired  brain  realized  the 
agony  she  was  causing  those  who  loved  her, 
she  shook  off  her  lethargy.  Little  by  little  she 
resumed  her  duties,  and  strove  with  fine  courage 
to  forget  the  ordeal  she  had  undergone.  Not 


94  A    HOUSE   OF    CARDS. 

even  to  Kendall  did  she  ever  refer  to  her 
sorrow.  She  could  not  forget  that  he  had 
failed  to  rejoice  with  her,  and  she  endeavored 
to  rid  herself  of  the  impression  that  both  he 
and  Penelope,  as  well  as  Kendall's  father,  had 
been  relieved  that  the  child  had  not  lived. 

Her  physician,  Dr.  Haswell,  who  took  a 
strong  interest  in  her,  wished  her  to  go  out; 
but  at  first  she  found  it  impossible  to  do  so. 
Then  Kendall  began  to  evince  a  desire  for 
society ;  but  neither  he  nor  Penelope  Browning 
would  go  without  her,  and  Loys,  who  could 
fathom  their  suddenly  conceived  tastes,  threw 
aside  her  distaste  for  meeting  people,  and 
began  to  frequent  the  world  once  again. 


Chapter  VIII. 


IENELOPE  BROWNING  had  enter- 
tained at  dinner  that  evening  a  party 
of  fourteen.  There  were  originally  to  have 
been  sixteen,  but  during  the  afternoon  Ken- 
dall had  telephoned  her  that  Loys  was  not  well, 
and  he  wished  Penelope  would  tell  her  she 
was  not  to  make  the  effort  of  attending  the 
dinner. 

Penelope  had  smothered  her  discomfiture 
and  followed  out  his  instructions,  professing 
a  great  surprise  at  seeing  Loys  extended  on 
the  couch. 

"  You  are  not  to  dream  of  making  the  effort 
of  sitting  so  long  at  table,"  she  had  good- 
naturedly  said,  "but  manage  to  come  at  ten  for 
an  hour  or  two.  I  wish  you  were  not  feeling 
ill.  I  intended  you  to  go  in  to  dinner  with 
Bishop  Yorke.  I  am  very  anxious  to  have  you 
meet  Bishop  and  the  Lidderdales." 

The  coffee  had  been  served  in  the  drawing- 
room,  and  Penelope  had  cast  many  a  glance 


96  A    HOUSE   OF   CARDS. 

in  the  direction  of  the  door  before  Loys  and 
Kendall  made  their  appearance. 

"I  began  to  think  you  had  deserted  me," 
exclaimed  Penelope,  as  she  advanced  to  meet 
them. 

"  I  am  not  sure  that  I  was  wise  to  bring 
Loys,"  returned  Kendall,  regarding  his  wife 
with  anxious  eyes. 

"  We  are  attracting  every  one's  attention," 
demurred  Loys.  "  I  am  only  a  trifle  fagged 
from  mounting  the  steps.  May  I  sit  next  to 
Mr.  Van  Arsdale  until  I  recover  myself? " 

They  certainly  had  drawn  the  attention  of 
the  company  to  themselves.  Kendall  had 
grown  somewhat  stouter  in  the  two  years  of 
his  marriage,  but  he  was  still  a  very  handsome 
man,  and  as  he  crossed  the  room  to  welcome 
Bishop  Yorke,  his  face  was  illumined  by  a  smile 
of  pleasure,  which  made  one  instinctively  feel 
his  good-nature. 

Loys  had  always  had  an  individual  charm. 
She  was  an  interesting-looking  woman,  rather 
than  a  strictly  handsome  one,  and  that  night 
she  was  looking  remarkably  striking.  The 
other  women  present  were  all  in  light-colored 
gowns,  but  Loys  wore  a  gown  of  some  sheer 
black  material,  which  was  slightly  open  at  the 


A   HOUSE   OF   CARDS.  97 

throat.  A  bunch  of  violets  drooped  at  her 
breast. 

"  Do  you  know,"  she  began  to  Van  Arsdale, 
"  when  I  came  in  I  felt  every  separate  eye  in 
the  room  upon  me." 

"  You  looked  unabashed  by  the  gaze  of  the 
select  public." 

"Happily,  the  cunning  of  a  blush  is,  with 
me,  to  be  numbered  among  the  lost  arts. 
Again,  I  felt  I  could  bear  the  most  rigorous 
criticism.  I  am  iron-clad  in  the  knowledge 
that  I  indulged  myself  in  a  leisurely  toilet,  and 
that  the  mirror  was  kind  to  me  to-night,"  she 
confessed,  with  bare-faced  assurance. 

"  Be  more  guarded.  What  would  you  say  if 
I  should  tell  you  that  a  piece  of  soot  embellished 
your  nose?" 

"  Merely  that  you  were  exercising  a  luxuriant 
imagination,"  she  returned,  with  exasperating 
serenity.  "I  scrutinized  myself  before  enter- 
ing." 

"It  must  be  delightfully  comfortable  to  be 
so  satisfied  with  one's  self,"  sighed  Van  Ars- 
dale. 

"It  is,  and  so  novel.  I  have  come  to  the 
conclusion  that  it  does  not  do  to  be  too  honest 
with  one's  self.  Of  course  the  tall,  exceedingly 
7 


98  A   HOUSE   OF   CARDS. 

well-groomed  looking  man  upon  whom  Gregory 
is  beaming  is  Mr.  Yorke." 

"  Yes.  You  will  be  glad  to  learn  he  is  going 
to  make  this  his  resting-place  for  a  while.  His 
affairs  here  need  attention.  I  imagine  you  two 
will  be  great  friends." 

"  I  know  what  it  will  mean  for  you  to  have 
him.  I  do  not  know  that  I  believe  in  luck,  but 
life  is  certainly  made  easier  for  some  people 
than  for  others,  and  it  has  been  made  easy  for 
Mr.  Yorke,  has  n't  it  ?  I  never  knew  until 
to-night  that  he  was  a  lawyer  and  at  one  time 
connected  with  Mr.  Warner." 

"  His  association  with  Warner  lasted  little 
over  a  year,  and  then  because  of  his  skill  with 
his  pen  and  brush  he  drifted  into  his  connection 
with  the  magazine  people.  It  was  Warner's 
fault." 

"Why?" 

"Yorke  was  young  and  enthusiastic,  and 
beneath  Warner's  successful  methods  he  did 
not  know  he  would  find  such  unscrupulousness 
countenanced  under  the  name  of  business.  He 
had  long  had  a  strong  dislike  for  Warner,  and 
one  morning,  when  every  clerk  in  the  office  was 
wishing  he  would  win  in  the  lottery  or  suddenly 
fall  heir  to  a  modest  competency,  that  he  might 


A   HOUSE   OF   CARDS.  99 

quit  Warner's  employ,  Yorke,  being  rich  enough 
to  indulge  himself  in  the  luxury  of  retaining 
his  own  self-respect,  walked  in  upon  Warner 
and  announced  his  intention  of  withdrawing 
from  the  firm." 

"Tell  me  what  had  happened,"  Loys  com- 
manded. 

"  It  was  something  in  this  wise,"  Van  Arsdale 
kindly  proceeded,  noting  that  her  breath  was 
still  coming  and  going  too  quickly.  "  One  of 
the  junior  clerks,  who  occupied  the  same  office 
with  Warner,  inadvertently  hung  his  topcoat  on 
Warner's  rack,  and  Warner  took  the  fire-tongs, 
placed  the  coat  upon  them,  and  carried  them 
out  into  the  office." 

"  What !  Yet  I  suppose  Mr.  Warner  considers 
himself  a  gentleman." 

"No,  I  think  not.  Warner  is  really  too 
bright  a  man  to  so  delude  himself,"  maintained 
Van  Arsdale,  dryly. 

At  that  moment  Penelope  broke  in  upon 
them  with  Yorke. 

"What  have  you  two  been  speaking  of  so 
earnestly?"  she  demanded,  after  presenting 
Yorke  to  Loys. 

"Do  not  ask,"  kindly  prompted  Yorke. 
"Can  you  not  see  from  Riker's  self-conscious 


100  A   HOUSE   OF   CARDS. 

air  that  he  has  been  speaking  of  us,  and  not  all 
good?" 

"  What  a  comfortable  possession  is  an  easy 
conscience  !  "  laughed  Loys.  "  Here  you  are, 
Penelope,  wondering  whether  we  can  have  dis- 
covered and'  been  discussing  your  latest  indis- 
cretion, while  I  should  have  been  perfectly  at 
ease  if  you  had  been  speaking  of  me,  safe  in 
the  knowledge  there  is  no  evil  to  be  whispered 
of  me." 

"And  I  too,"  chimed  in  Van  Arsdale. 

"  I  am  afraid  that  if  you  were  to  come  out 
in  your  true  colors,  you  would  go  round  in  a 
yellow  cover,  like  the  French  novels,"  Yorke 
averred. 

Penelope  and  Van  Arsdale  wandered  away. 

"  Do  you  know  that  you  caused  me  a  great 
disappointment  by  your  default?  "  Yorke  con- 
tinued, still  standing.  "  Penelope  had  promised 
me  your  company  at  dinner." 

Loys  laid  her  hand  upon  the  chair  beside  her 
own,  and  smiled  up  at  him. 

"  Probably  we  would  be  more  comfortable 
if  I  were  seated,"  he  agreed,  smiling  in  turn. 
"  I  too  often  forget  my  inconvenient  length. 
I  shall  impress  you  with  the  idea  that  I  should 
be  more  at  ease  if  I  took  a  seat  upon  the 


A   HOUSE   OF   CARDS.  IOI 

mantel ;  these  low  chairs  were  never  meant  for 
a  man  of  my  size." 

"  And  so  you  have  concluded  to  sit  upon  your 
own  hearth-rug  and  purr,"  she  ventured. 

"Yes.  It  seems  my  affairs  require  supervi- 
sion, and  I  am  not  grieving  that  I  am  no  longer 
to  be  like  Noah's  dove,  lighting  here  and  there, 
only  to  be  again  on  the  wing." 

"  I  hope  you,  too,  come  with  an  olive  leaf  in 
your  mouth." 

"  Do  I  not  look  like  a  man  with  a  seraphic 
temperament  ?  " 

"  I  am  not  prepared  to  hazard  an  opinion," 
she  asserted,  after  a  meditative  pause,  making  a 
pretence  of  studying  his  features. 

Yorke  had  entered  life  under  the  charter  of 
success.  From  his  cradle  his  charm  had  been 
undisputed.  He  could  remember  nothing  he 
had  wished  for  which  had  been  withheld.  His 
honors  had  come  to  him  without  labor ;  that  he 
took  the  highest  degree  in  his  class,  that  he  was 
considered  the  first  stroke  in  his  team,  were 
nothing  to  his  credit,  his  classmates  protested. 
He  had  been  born  with  a  fine  amount  of  intelli- 
gence, with  a  magnificent  physique,  and  with  the 
proverbial  golden  spoon  in  his  mouth ;  moreover, 
it  bore  a  crest.  There  had  been  times  when  it 


102  A    HOUSE    OF    CARDS. 

had  seemed  that  his  banner  might  be  over- 
thrown, but  his  indomitable  will  and  persever- 
ence  had  won  the  battle.  He  had  come  to 
consider  success  as  his  birthright. 

"  I  remember  dreaming  once  of  being  way- 
laid by  a  highwayman,  and  his  face  wore  the 
same  expression  of  grim  determination  as  does 
Mr.  Yorke's  —  money  or  your  life,  it  said.  He 
would  have  something.  I  am  convinced  he 
never  has  vain  wishes,  only  invincible  wills," 
Loys  mused. 

"Has  not  my  reputation  preceded  me?" 
Yorke  went  on.  "  I  had  hoped  Kendall  or 
Penelope  would  have  told  you  all  about  me." 

"Hoped?"  echoed  Loys,  raising  her  level 
brows.  "  Most  of  us  would  rather  imagine  we 
had  not  been  discussed  beforehand." 

"  Perhaps  the  fact  that  Penelope  and  I  have 
been  friends  for  more  than  twenty  years  will 
attest  my  first  statement." 

"  Not  at  all.  Penelope  is  forgiving  in  the 
extreme.  I  have  never  been  able  to  entice  her 
into  the  least  semblance  of  a  quarrel.  Yet  I  do 
not  plume  myself  upon  my  good-nature,  nor 
have  I  heard  any  one  else  mention  it.  But," 
she  added,  with  a  deprecatory  sigh  of  comical 
resignation,  "I  never  expect  to  be  properly 


A    HOUSE   OF    CARDS.  103 

appreciated  by  any  one  but  myself  until  I  am 
in  my  grave." 

"Grave?"  he  repeated.  " I  trust  cremation 
will  have  become  an  assured  fact  before  I  die." 

"  Have  you  ever  thought  that  they  might  bury 
you  while  you  were  still  alive  ?  I  have.  I 
am  going  to  hang  a  placard  upon  my  bed,  as 
did  Hans  Andersen, '  Don't  bury  me  ;  I  think  I 
am  alive.'  I  hope  they  will  cremate  me." 

"  If  I  get  to  the  crematory  first,  I  shall  ask 
that  you  be  appointed  first  stoker,"  put  in 
Kendall,  leaning  over  her. 

"  I  am  trying  to  convince  Gregory,"  she  pur- 
sued, unheeding  her  husband's  frivolity,  "that 
cremation  is  a  much  cleaner  and  more  humane 
course  than  burial,  but  my  efforts  are  greeted 
with  but  small  success.  I  imagine  Gregory 
believes  that  to  speak  of  my  demise  would  hasten 
it." 

Kendall  sauntered  away.  He  had  a  childish 
objection  to  speaking  of  death. 

"  At  least,  cremation  is  more  economical," 
Yorke  allowed,  "  and  Kendall  could  keep  you 
on  the  chimney-piece  in  a  beautiful  urn,  and 
murmur  to  visitors,  'There  slumbers  my  be- 
loved wife.'  A  large  family  need  have  but 
one  good-sized  urn.  I  wonder  if  on  the  Day 


IO4  A  HOUSE  OF   CARDS. 

of  Judgment  the  contents  of  that  urn  would  turn 
out  a  composite  figure." 

They  laughed  together  at  his  conceit,  and 
Loys,  who  had  been  slipping  her  rings  on  and 
off  her  fingers,  at  that  moment  dropped  the 
turquoise. 

"  Thank  you,"  she  murmured,  as  he  restored 
it  to  her.  "Do  you  recognize  your  gift?  It 
was  more  than  kind  to  send  it  to  me,  for  you 
must  have  had  some  friend  who  would  have 
welcomed  it,  on  account  of  its  historical  associa- 
tions, with  as  much  appreciation  as  I." 

"  As  soon  as  I  saw  it,  I  knew  it  was  intended 
for  you.  You  see,  Laura  had  described  you  to 
us  one  night  in  this  very  house.  Do  you  still 
retain  your  love  for  Heine?" 

"  How  did  you  know  he  was  one  of  my  favor- 
ites?" she  queried,  in  turn. 

There  crept  into  his  eyes,  too,  an  expression 
of  blank  surprise. 

"  Surely,"  he  thought,  "  she  must  be  aware  I 
know  of  her  admiration  for  the  man,  else  why 
should  I  have  sent  her  that  book  ?  " 

"  Again  my  information  came  through  Laura," 
he  pursued,  aloud.  "She  has  a  strong  regard 
for  you." 

Loys  smothered  her  astonishment. 


A   HOUSE   OF   CARDS.  105 

"Almost  the  first  German  work  I  read  was 
'  The  Book  Le  Grand/  which  I  found  simple 
because  I  knew  it  so  well  in  the  English.  I 
still  have  that  battered,  annotated  little  volume, 
which  is  so  dear  to  me  that,  although  I  have 
continually  determined  to  buy  another,  I  never 
do." 

He  regarded  her  curiously,  then  glanced 
across  the  room  at  his  sister,  whose  eyes  were 
at  that  second  fixed  upon  them. 

"  Loys,"  Penelope  began,  coming  up  to  them, 
"  Mrs.  Lidderdale  is  very  anxious  to  meet  you. 
You  had  no  right,  Bishop,  to  monopolize  Mrs. 
Kendall  in  your  selfish  fashion." 

"  I  am  afraid  it  was  I  who  monopolized  Mr. 
Yorke.  You  must  not  let  me  be  so  thoughtless 
another  time,"  smiled  Loys,  turning  away. 

At  Penelope's  solicitation,  the  man  who  sat 
next  to  Laura  Yorke  went  to  the  piano,  and 
Yorke  sank  into  the  vacant  place.  When  the 
song  came  to  an  end,  Yorke  turned  to  his  sister, 
saying,  "  Do  you  remember  my  once  giving  you 
a  work  of  Heine  for  —  " 

"  Don't  go  on,"  the  girl  interrupted.  "  I 
remember  all  the  incidents  :  they  are  unpleas- 
antly impressed  upon  my  memory.  I  tried  to 
confess  a  day  or  two  after  you  gave  me  the  book, 


106  A   HOUSE  OF   CARDS. 

but  my  courage  failed  me.  I  clumsily  over- 
turned a  bottle  of  ink,  which  thoroughly  satu- 
rated the  book.  As  Miss  Yerrington  —  I  mean 
Mrs.  Kendall  —  had  a  distaste  for  soiled  volumes, 
I  made  no  mention  of  it  to  her,  and,  as  I  before 
told  you,  I  was  afraid,  at  the  time,  of  your  dis- 
pleasure. Are  you  very  angry?  " 

A  half-smile  parted  his  lips  :  it  was  not  alto- 
gether a  pleasant  smile,  and  under  it  Laura  grew 
slightly  discomposed. 

"  I  never  before  knew  you  were  a  coward," 
he  finally  observed.  It  was  a  long  time  since 
she  had  seen  Yorke  so  aroused. 

"  You  seem  to  doubt  my  having  overturned 
the  ink,"  she  commented,  haughtily. 

He  measured  her  with  partially  closed  eyes, 
then  walked  away. 

She  complacently  arranged  the  roses  at  her 
waist.  Ah,  it  had  not  been  so  foolish,  after  all, 
to  be  afraid  of  —  Loys  Yerrington. 

As  Loys  and  Kendall  walked  home  that  even- 
ing, she  said,  "  Penelope  was  at  her  best 
to-night.  What  were  you  two  last  laughing 
about?" 

"  At  what  do  you  suppose  ?  At  some  remark 
of  her  own,"  Kendall  observed,  with  some 
little  asperity.  "There  is  nothing  more  unbe- 


A   HOUSE   OF    CARDS.  IO7 

coming  a  woman  than  cleverness ;  that  is, 
unless  she  is  clever  enough  to  conceal  it.  No 
trait  becomes  more  quickly  offensive  than  the 
brilliancy  of  which  a  person  is  conscious  and 
with  which  she  desires  to  impress  others.  I 
don't  like  clever  women." 

Loys  declined  to  construe  his  statement  as  a 
reflection  upon  herself. 

"  You  cannot  be  speaking  with  Penelope  in 
mind,"  she  protested,  with  rare  loyalty  to  her 
friend. 

Kendall  had  wasted  upon  Penelope  that 
night  two  witticisms  which  had  been  capable  of 
arousing  even  his  own  fastidious  approval,  and 
an  epigram  which  had  never  before  failed  to 
make  a  deep  impression,  yet  she  had  noticed 
them  by  only  a  perfunctory  smile.  She  had  been 
either  completely  absorbed  in  her  laughter 
over  some  remark  of  her  own,  or  had  been 
waiting  with  visible  impatience  until  he  should 
finish  speaking,  when  she  intended  to  give 
utterance  to  one  of  her  own  carefully  prepared 
impromptu  effects,  which  he  saw  trembling 
upon  her  lips.  It  was,  therefore,  with  a  due 
appreciation  of  his  own  blessings  that  he  felt 
Loys's  arm  within  his  own.  Loys  belonged  to 
that  almost  extinct  race  of  beings  which  is  not 


108  A   HOUSE   OF    CARDS. 

swayed  by  an  overwhelming  desire  to  be  the 
actor,  —  never  the  audience. 

"  Here  we  are  at  our  own  door.  Let  us 
walk  round  the  block,  Gregory.  It  is  a  crime 
to  waste  such  a  perfect  night  in  sleep." 

"  No,"  he  returned,  resolutely,  "  I  am  not 
going  to  encourage  you  in  your  owl-like  habits. 
I  did  not  enjoy  this  evening  so  thoroughly  that 
I  desire  to  prolong  it." 

"  But  I  did,"  she  asserted,  wilfully,  resisting 
the  arm  he  placed  about  her  in  an  endeavor  to 
draw  her  over  the  threshold.  "  Take  your  arm 
away,  or  the  conductor  and  engineer  on  the 
next  passing  dummy  will  think  I  am  the  cook 
and  that  you  are  her  young  man." 

She  gazed  up  at  the  star-lit,  cloudless  sky, 
her  eyes  dwelling  gratefully  upon  the  splendor 
of  the  new-born  moon. 

"Of  what  are  you  thinking?"  Kendall  whis- 
pered, enfolding  her  closer. 

She  slipped  away,  laughing  mischievously, 
and  pointed  to  the  crescent-moon,  about  which 
the  luminous  halo  was  vigorously  marked. 

"  Only  that  though  this  January  has  been  like 
our  usual  February  weather,  I  am  afraid  it 
intends  to  rain  to-morrow  night,  simply  to  give 
our  guests  a  chance  to  soil  our  new  rugs." 


A    HOUSE   OF   CARDS.  109 

Then  she  followed  him  into  the  house, 
vaguely  wondering  why  she  had  spoken  of  the 
weather  when  she  knew  she  had  been  thinking 
of  Bishop  Yorke.  She  would  ask  Penelope 
how  he  came  by  the  sabre  scar  on  his  forehead. 
The  story  escaped  her.  She  knew  he  had 
received  the  wound  through  risking  his  life  for 
another,  but  for  whom  she  could  not  think. 

Penelope  would  know. 


Chapter  IX. 
* 

|RS.  LUTTRELL  was  undeniably  sleeping 
when  Yorke  was  announced.  The 
book  in  her  lap  dropped  to  the  floor  at  her 
precipitate  start. 

"Is  it  you,  Bishop?"  she  asked,  blinking 
drowsily  upon  him.  "  Penelope  is  dining  at  the 
Kendall's  to-night,  but  she  left  word  that  if 
you  came  early  you  were  to  join  her  there.  I 
shall  call  for  you  at  half-past  ten,  to  take  you  to 
the  Trotter's." 

Yorke  debated  a  moment.  It  was  quite 
clear  that  Mrs.  Luttrell  was  not  anxious  for  his 
company ;  and  as  Loys  had  never  invited  him 
to  call,  he  did  not  know  that  he  cared  to  enter 
her  home  unasked. 

"You  will  enjoy  yourself  at  the  Kendall's," 
garrulously  ran  on  Mrs.  Luttrell,  "  for  Loys 
really  understands  what  home  should  be.  If 
there  were  more  such  women,  we  should  hear 
less  of  divorce  suits  and  marriage  being  a  fail- 
ure ;  but  then  she  has  rather  antiquated  ideas 


A   HOUSE   OF   CARDS.  Ill 

about  a  wife's  duties.  Penelope  told  her  that 
she  intended  to  leave  word  that  you  were  to 
follow  her.  Loys  was  very  glad  to  think  you 
were  coming." 

Yorke  found  himself  at  the  Kendall's  door 
before  he  had  fully  decided  whether  he  was  wise 
to  follow  his  inclinations  in  obeying  Penelope's 
orders. 

The  maid  opened  the  door,  and  he  stood 
within  the  pretty  hall,  which  was  disfigured  by 
a  carved  clock,  so  magnificent  and  tall  that  it 
appeared  quite  out  of  place.  Yorke  was,  in  a 
manner,  disappointed  by  the  sight  of  the  clock. 
As  he  walked  forward,  Kendall  espied  him,  and 
came  to  meet  him. 

The  portieres  of  the  living-room  were  drawn 
apart,  showing  Penelope  and  Van  Arsdale  in 
coldly  critical  attitudes  before  Loys,  who  was 
reclining  in  a  broad,  white  wicker  chair,  wrapped 
in  Penelope's  evening  cloak,  which  was  of  some 
rich  white  material,  heavy  with  fur. 

"  It  should  make  a  good  picture,"  announced 
Penelope,  slowly.  "  You  will  wear  that  quaint 
white  gown  of  yours,  and  the  cloak  must  be 
slipping  from  yo/ir  shoulders.  Oh,  here  is  Mr. 
Yorke  !  Come,  give  us  the  value  of  your  opinion. 
Sit  still  a  moment,  Loys.  I  do  not  know  why 


112  A   HOUSE   OF   CARDS. 

it  is  that  Mrs.  Kendall  takes  such  an  unsatis- 
factory picture.  I  can  succeed  with  every  one 
but  her.  If  this  one  does  not  please  me,  I  warn 
you,  it  will  be  my  last  attempt  to  transfix  you." 

"If  success  does  crown  your  efforts,  it  will 
all  be  due  to  the  cloak,"  observed  Loys,  rising. 
"  It  is  capable  of  transforming  an  ugly  woman 
into  a  pretty  one." 

Her  mutable  face  had  colored  under  their 
prolonged  inspection,  but  she  advanced  to  meet 
Yorlce  without  a  trace  of  discomposure.  She 
was  sincerely  glad  to  see  him,  and  made  him 
feel  her  pleasure  in  a  well-chosen  word  or  two. 

It  was  a  room  which  wore  no  formidable  air 
of  order.  It  was  lined  with  bookcases,  and 
above  them  hung  a  few  fine  etchings,  together 
with  a  picture  or  two  by  a  young  local  artist  of 
whom  Loys  expected  great  things.  Two  price- 
less Coula  rugs  (Penelope's  wedding  offering) 
served  as  portieres,  and  lent  a  matchless  bit  of 
color.  The  three  or  four  palms  growing  in  the 
room  were  cunningly  placed  next  the  bronzes 
and  dainty  tea- equipage,  for  Loys  was  too  much 
of  an  artist  to  be  unmindful  of  the  details  of 
her  background.  Some  China  lilies  were  abloom 
in  pretty  bowls,  for  it  was  the  month  of  February, 
when  every  other  bay-window  in  San  Francisco 


A   HOUSE   OF    CARDS.  113 

was  aglow  with  these  flowers ;  but  all  the  air  was 
violet,  for  bunches  of  the  California  variety, 
with  its  luxurious  length  of  stem,  had  been 
scattered  about.  The  room  was  lit  by  the  shaded 
radiance  of  lamps  and  the  soft  glow  of  the  fire. 

Kendall  had  taken  possession  of  the  divan, 
and  lazily  leaned  one  elbow  upon  the  luxurious 
mass  of  cushions. 

As  Yorke  was  about  to  seat  himself,  Loys 
moved  forward  an  inviting  arm-chair,  saying, 
"  You  will  be  more  at  ease  here,  and  we  wish 
you  to  be  comfortable,  that  you  may  feel  the 
desire  to  come  often." 

She  seated  herself  near  him,  at  the  same 
time  passing  Penelope  a  cut-glass  dish  which 
contained  chocolates. 

"  You  might  as  well  be  introduced  to  all  our 
bad  habits  at  once,  I  suppose,"  she  went  on, 
doubtfully,  offering  Yorke  the  sweets.  "  I  am 
afraid  we  begin  to  nibble  candies  as  soon  as  we 
have  finished  dining." 

Afterward  Yorke  learned  to  know  that  the 
little  dish  was  always  supplied  with  sweets,  but 
that  when  it  was  offered  to  a  guest  making  a 
first  call,  it  was  the  signal  that  Loys  had  ad- 
mitted him  to  her  friendship.  She  thought 
people  became  better  acquainted  while  eating. 


114  A   HOUSE  OF  CARDS. 

"Am  I  not  to  have  any  candies?"  asked 
Kendall. 

"  Do  exercise  some  restraint,"  admonished 
Penelope.  "  You  know  what  we  told  you  a 
while  ago." 

"  They  insist  that  I  am  growing  too  stout," 
explained  Kendall,  "  and  want  me  to  ride  a 
bicycle.  What  do  you  think,  Yorke  ?  " 

"  That  the  pruning-knife  might  be  applied 
judiciously,"  hazarded  Yorke.  "You  know, 
you  can  carry  a  good  thing  too  far." 

"  My  mouth,  for  example,"  cited  Penelope. 

"  If  you  would  only  walk  down  town  in  the 
mornings,"  Loys  recommended.  "  But  the 
hills  are  appalling,  I  admit,  and  with  a  cable 
line  on  almost  every  street,  it  is  next  to  impos- 
sible to  hold  to  one's  good  resolutions  to 
walk." 

"  It  must  be  very  comfortable  to  eat  as  much 
as  one  desires  without  an  uneasy  vision  of  the 
extra  pounds  of  flesh,"  sighed  Kendall,  from 
his  lounging-place.  "  Is  n't  it,  Van  Arsdale  ?  " 

Loys  moved  uneasily.  She  detested  per- 
sonalities. Kendall's  bland  question,  however, 
excited  only  a  laugh,  for  Van  Arsdale's  tenuity 
was  a  jest  of  old  standing. 

"  It  is,"  Van  Arsdale   returned.     "  By  the 


A   HOUSE  OF   CARDS.  115 

way,  to-day  I  heard  the  most  unkind  remark 
passed  upon  me  since  the  time  some  one  said 
I  was  to  be  arrested  for  having  no  visible  means 
of  support.  A  friend  of  mine  wondered  if  I 
did  not  answer  Thackeray's  description  of 
George  IV.,  — '  a  waistcoat,  an  under  waistcoat, 
another  under  waistcoat,  and  then  nothing.' " 

"Who  could  have  told  you?  "  cried  Penelope, 
naively. 

"  It  was  you  then?  "  murmured  Van  Arsdale, 
amid  the  laughter. 

Penelope  flushed  angrily  at  her  stupidity  and 
tried  to  fasten  upon  the  one  to  whom  she  had 
made  the  luckless  remark. 

Yorke  came  to  her  rescue  by  referring  to  the 
concert  they  had  all  attended  the  previous  night, 
and  then  they  fell  to  speaking  of  San  Fran- 
cisco's backwardness.  Yorke  was  the  city's 
only  champion. 

"To  me  San  Francisco  has  forged  ahead 
artistically,"  he  affirmed.  "The  creditable  art 
loan  exhibitions  you  have  had,  and  of  which  I 
have  heard,  show  there  are  a  number  of  fine 
pictures  in  our  midst.  It  is  true,  we  have  only 
the  nucleus  of  a  museum,  but  the  rest  will  come 
with  time.  And  I  know  that  twenty  years  ago 
New  York  was  almost  destitute  in  that  regard 


Il6  A  HOUSE  OF   CARDS. 

also.  The  dramatic  taste  of  the  public  here  is 
discreet,  although  unreliable.  It  is  in  music 
that  you  have  made  progress,  though  I  know 
you  will  not  admit  it,  because  you  were  unable 
to  support  an  excellent  though  low-priced  or- 
chestra. A  few  years  ago  the  symphony  con- 
certs, which  were  so  well  attended,  would  have 
proved  a  signal  failure.  Why,  Van  Arsdale, 
you  must  remember  when  Emma  Abbott  was 
the  ideal  of  the  city,  and  the  music  critic  of 
our  best  paper  exhausted  his  vocabulary  of 
flattering  epithets  upon  her,  and  was  forced, 
upon  hearing  Patti,  to  confess  his  former 
ignorance." 

Loys  lured  him  on  to  speak  of  the  Lamou- 
reux  concerts,  and  he  played  a  morceau  or  two 
to  emphasize  or  illustrate  some  point. 

"  The  feeling  of  professional  jealousy  rife 
here  will  tend  to  keep  you  back,"  he  went  on. 
"  The  musicians  should  learn  from  the  organi- 
zations of  musical  centres  that  every  violin  can- 
not be  first,  that  —  " 

He  paused,  listening  to  the  sound  of  a  piano, 
which  could  be  heard  as  distinctly  as  though  it 
were  in  the  next  room.  The  others  were  equally 
silent ;  only  Kendall  moved  impatiently. 

"  It  is  the  piano  next  door,"  he  volunteered, 


A   HOUSE   OF   CARDS.  117 

as  the  last  note  died  away.  "  On  that  side  our 
house  is  wedged  close  to  the  adjoining  one,  for 
we  wished  every  available  inch  we  could  gain 
for  the  lawn.  Loys  has  got  us  into  the  habit  of 
keeping  silence  when  our  neighbor  plays  that 
song." 

"  It  is  heart-breaking,"  exclaimed  Penelope, 
petulantly,  striving  to  throw  off  the  spell  of  the 
music.  "  Do  you  know  what  it  is,  Bishop?  " 

"  It  is  quite  unfamiliar  to  me,"  he  returned. 
He  played  the  closing  bars,  then  frowned : 
"You  are  right,  Pen;  it  is  heart-reaching. 
But  how  is  it  that  you  do  not  know  the  name  of 
the  composer?" 

Loys  awoke  from  a  dream  at  finding  herself 
addressed. 

"  We  are  not  anxious  to  know  our  neighbors, 
and,  you  see,  it  would  be  quite  impossible  for 
me  to  ring  their  bell,  and,  if  the  musician 
opened  the  door,  to  sing  a  few  bars  of  the 
song,  inquire  its  name,  and  come  away." 

He  played  the  haunting  bars  once  again ; 
they  clung  to  his  memory  with  tenacious 
persistence. 

It  was  growing  late,  and  Penelope  drew  on 
her  gloves  in  anticipation  of  Mrs.  Luttrell's 
arrival. 


Il8  A   HOUSE   OF    CARDS. 

"  Are  you  going  to  Mrs.  Boyson's  cotillon 
to-morrow  night,  Penelope?"  asked  Van 
Arsdale. 

"  No ;  we  expect  you  to  come  to  amuse  us," 
she  returned. 

"Who  is  Mrs.  Boyson?"  queried  Yorke. 
"It  is  a  new  name  to  me." 

"  An  extremely  intelligent  woman,  who  is 
painfully  clambering  up  the  ladder  of  society," 
explained  Penelope,  revolving  before  the  glass 
in  a  last  tour  of  inspection.  "  I  once  over- 
heard her  inquire  for  some  retrousse  silver,  — 
she  prides  herself  upon  her  articles  Qivertu" 

"  She  may  lack  grace  of  manner,  but  she  is 
a  truly  good  woman,"  interposed  Van  Arsdale. 

"We  do  not  doubt  it,  though  we  would 
rather  be  left  in  ignorance  of  the  fact,"  Pene- 
lope acceded,  "  for  when  a  woman  of  her  stamp 
is  good,  she  is  oppressively  so.  I  hate  uncom- 
promising goodness." 

"If  she  only  entertains,  the  young  people 
will  look  upon  her  as  God-sent,"  laughed  Yorke. 
"Or  are  the  hostesses  more  hospitable  than 
was  their  former  wont?" 

"  Probably  more  entertaining  would  be  done 
if  the  men  accepted  the  invitations  without  so 
much  the  grand  manner  of  conferring  an  honor," 


A   HOUSE    OF   CARDS.  1 19 

pursued  Penelope.  "  For  days  here  they  leave 
one  awaiting  a  reply  to  a  dinner  invitation,  and 
yet  they  pride  themselves  upon  their  acquaint- 
ance with  les  convenances.  Don't  laugh  to-night 
when  you  see  me  being  led  through  the  figures 
by  boys  in  their  nonage ;  the  only  men  in  the 
rooms  will  be  the  officers  from  the  Presidio. 
Your  age  will  not  militate  against  you  to-night, 
Bishop." 

"  Henry  James's  problem, '  To  whom  shall  we 
marry  our  daughters?'  has  reached  here  then," 
observed  Yorke.  "  Well,  as  we  grow  more  and 
more  luxurious  every  day,  it  is  not  astonishing 
that  marriage  is  relegated  to  the  lower  circles. 
Ah,  here  is  the  carriage." 

Yorke  enfolded  Penelope  in  her  cloak,  and 
Loys  gave  the  last  touch  to  her  hair. 

"Try  to  hide  the  fact  that  you  deem  yourself 
superior  to  your  partners,  Pen,"  were  Van 
Arsdale's  last  words. 

She  unfurled  her  huge  white  fan,  and  swept 
him  an  exaggerated  courtesy. 

"  It  would  not  be  becoming  for  me  to  assume 
an  air  of  imperturbable  wisdom.  It  would 
accord  ill  with  my  length  of  years." 

"  Good-night,  dear,"  said  Loys  to  Penelope; 
"  do  not  work  too  hard  at  enjoying  yourself." 


120  A    HOUSE   OF   CARDS. 

"  Poor  old  lady,"  purred  Penelope  to  Mrs. 
Luttrell  as  she  entered  the  carriage ;  "  it  is 
cruel  to  keep  you  up  so  late." 

"This  is  all  done  for  your  benefit,  Bishop," 
affirmed  Mrs.  Luttrell.  "  For  weeks  at  a  time 
she  has  kept  me  from  bed  until  the  stars  have 
faded  from  the  sky,  and  never  before  was  there 
a  murmur  of  compunction.  What  do  you 
think  of  Mrs.  Kendall?" 

"  How  did  she  ever  come  to  marry  Greg- 
ory?" he  demanded.  "Did  she  not  know?" 

All  the  light  and  warmth  died  out  of  Pene- 
lope's face. 

"  It  seems  impossible  to  believe  she  did  not 
know  what  was  so  well-known;  but  I  do  not 
think  she  did.  Even  after  her  marriage,  Riker 
said  she  must  have  been  aware  of  it,  but  he  is 
no  longer  so  confident.  In  all  innocence  we 
have  heard  her  discuss  subjects  which  make  us, 
with  our  knowledge,  turn  faint  and  sick  at 
heart.  Every  time  I  touch  Gregory  Kendall's 
hand,  I  feel  myself  the  greatest  hypocrite  in  the 
world.  I  have  to  pretend  that  I  like  him  to 
have  the  right  to  be  near  Loys,  but  I  loathe  — 
What  good  do  my  words  do?" 

Yorke's  face  had  grown  set  and  stern.  They 
were  silent  for  a  time,  then  Yorke,  to  divert 


A   HOUSE   OF    CARDS.  121 

them,  said,  "Why,  why  has  she  that  clock  in 
that  small  hall?" 

"  Oh,  that  clock  !  "  laughed  Penelope.  "  If 
some  one  would  only  steal  it  some  night,  how 
relieved  Loys  would  be.  You  see,  old  Mr. 
Kendall  heard  her  admire  ours,  and  he  straight- 
way ordered  the  handsomest  one  he  could  find. 
Loys  has  to  be  very  careful  in  what  she  says 
before  him,  for  he  gets  her  everything  for 
which  she  expresses  a  desire.  He  worships 
her  as  much  as  does  Gregory,  only  there  is 
something  pitiful  in  his  love.  The  clock  is  a 
nightmare  to  Loys ;  she  thinks  it  gives  people 
a.  wrong  impression  of  her." 

"Why  doesn't  she  place  it  elsewhere?" 
inquired  Mrs.  Luttrell. 

"  For  fear  of  wounding  the  old  gentleman," 
answered  Penelope.  "  As  a  usual  thing,  I  hate 
to  acknowledge  that  there  are  others  better  or 
wiser  than  I,  but  I  freely  confess  that  Loys  is." 


Chapter  X. 

]PON  his  return  to  San  Francisco,  Yorke 
was  engaged  in  gathering  together  the 
loose  ends  of  his  many  interests,  for  he  discov- 
ered that  his  affairs  required  his  own  supervision 
if  he  wished  to  enjoy  the  right  to  spend  money 
freely,  —  the  one  purpose  for  which  he  valued  it. 
He  was  given  to  saying  that  he  suffered  from  a 
constitutional  "inclination  to  do  nothing,"  yet 
his  consuming  energy  made  light  tasks  before 
which  others  would  have  faltered. 

At  her  suggestion,  he  had  taken  up  his  resi- 
dence with  his  step-mother.  She  was  a  coldly 
intelligent  woman,  who  had  lavished  upon  her 
husband  the  one  love  of  her  life,  and  yet  con- 
trived to  render  him  exquisitely  wretched. 

All  unselfishness  impossible  to  her  was  alike 
impossible  to  every  one  else,  although  she  con- 
ferred upon  Bishop  Yorke,  because  of  his  father, 
a  greater  latitude  than  she  permitted  others. 
She  had  never  been  guilty  of  a  single  warm 
impulse,  and  consequently  thought  all  uncon- 


A   HOUSE   OF   CARDS.  123 

ventionality  vulgar.  Yorke  made  no  attempt 
to  revolutionize  her  theories,  but  was  forced  to 
assume  a  quizzical  air  of  infinite  amusement 
at  the  absolute  monarchy  the  two  women  had 
formed. 

Upon  Yorke's  advent,  Riker  Van  Arsdale 
found  his  way  once  in  a  while  to  the  Yorke's. 
He  confided  to  Penelope  Browning  that  he 
found  Laura  shallow.  Penelope  arched  her 
brows  in  wonderment,  and  warned  him  that 
shallows  are  often  dangerous. 

Yorke  entered  his  mother's  sitting-room  that 
afternoon,  saying,  "  Laura,  Pen  and  Van  Arsdale 
are  outside,  and  we  would  like  you  to  go  to 
the  Park  with  us." 

"Did  Penelope  propose  my  going?"  she 
asked. 

"Yes.  We  called  for  Mrs.  Kendall,  and 
when  we  found  she  was  not  at  home,  Penelope 
said  we  must  come  for  you,"  he  answered,  with 
stupid  truthfulness.  On  the  instant  he  realized 
his  blunder. 

"Thank  Pen  for  her  thoughtfulness,"  said 
Laura ;  "  but,  after  all,  now  that  the  horses  are 
ordered,  it  will  be  as  well  to  use  them,  and  I 
know  mamma  will  not  go  without  me." 

"  Of  course  you  know  best,"  granted  Yorke. 


124  A   HOUSE   OF    CARDS. 

If  Laura  had  expected  him  to  coax  her,  she  had 
made  a  mistake.  He  never  tried  to  coerce  any 
one ;  he  thought  his  friends  possibly  knew  their 
own  minds  better  than  he  could  know  them. 

"  Penelope  is  completely  infatuated  with  Mrs. 
Kendall,"  observed  Mrs.  Yorke.  "  She  always 
had  a  strange  liking  for  original  people,  and  I 
suppose  Mrs.  Kendall  simply  made  her  literary 
work  the  staircase  to  her  higher  ambitions." 

Yorke  regarded  her  in  eloquent  dismay.  For 
once  he  was  not  amused  by  her  original  mode 
of  thought.  Words  trembled  upon  his  lips 
which  he  restrained  with  difficulty.  Of  what 
avail  would  it  be  to  hurl  his  diatribe  at  her? 
It  would  fall  ineffectually  upon  her  blunted 
senses.  She  was  quite  unable  to  comprehend 
the  enormity  of  her  offences. 

"  I  suppose  Penelope's  peculiarity  can  be 
accounted  for  on  the  ground  that  she  is  John 
Browning's  daughter,"  mused  Mrs.  Yorke. 
"  He  never  was  happy  unless  patronizing  some 
one." 

"  John  Browning  never  was  guilty  of  patron- 
izing any  one,"  corrected  Yorke,  with  ominous 
quiet.  "  And  Pen  is  quite  conscious  of  the  favor 
she  enjoys  in  Mrs.  Kendall's  friendship." 

"My   dear   Bishop,   you  forget,"   reminded 


A   HOUSE   OF   CARDS.  125 

Mrs.  Yorke,  with  a  smile  of  superior  pity,  "  that 
Mrs.  Kendall  is  the  daughter,  I  believe,  of  some 
poor  farmer  in  Contra  Costa  County —  " 

Yorke  basely  fled,  murmuring  something 
about  having  kept  Penelope  waiting  too  long. 

He  laughed  impatiently  as  he  gathered  up 
the  reins. 

"  You  are  laughing  at  some  stupidity  of  your 
own,"  Penelope  divined.  "You  did  not  tell 
Laura  we  had  gone  for  Mrs.  Kendall?" 

"That  is  exactly  what  I  did,"  he  acknowl- 
edged, with  conspicuous  cheerfulness.  "  I  am 
confident  I  do  not  know  a  man  who  would 
refuse  an  invitation  simply  because  it  had  first 
been  tendered  to  another." 

"  Surely  you  do  not  expect  a  woman  to  be 
gifted  with  the  same  degree  of  logic  as  a  man," 
she  protested.  "  I  wonder  where  Loys  could 
have  gone.  It  is  not  her  afternoon  to  read  to 
her  old  gentleman  at  the  Old  Peoples'  Home, 
nor  to  go  to  the  hospital  — " 

"  To  hear  you,  one  would  think  Mrs.  Kendall 
spent  her  life  in  ministering  to  the  halt,"  re- 
monstrated Yorke. 

"Was  I  making  her  out  a  tiresome  saint ?" 
she  laughed.  "  Well,  let  me  modify  my  state- 
ment by  saying  that  the  old  man  to  whom  Loys 


126  A   HOUSE   OF   CARDS. 

reads  is  a  blind  English  journalist,  from  whom 
she  says  she  learns  more  than  from  any  one  else  ; 
and  she  has  an  insatiate  appetite  for  knowledge. 
No,  Loys  is  not  fatiguingly  good." 

"  You  and  Mrs.  Kendall  really  make  a  man 
believe  that  friendship  is  possible  between 
women,"  commented  Van  Arsdale.  "  I  have 
laid  the  most  plausible  pitfalls  for  you,  yet  I 
have  never  succeeded  in  insnaring  the  one 
into  speaking  evil  of  the  other.  By  the  way, 
Penelope,  how  is  your  pupil  getting  along?" 

Penelope  flushed  painfully,  as  though  detected 
in  some  wrong-doing. 

"  I  used  to  think  you  made  a  confidant  of 
me,"  he  pursued.  "  I  am  hurt  that  you  no 
longer  let  me  behind  the  scenes." 

"There  is  nothing  much  to  tell,"  she  con- 
trived to  murmur.  "  She  cannot  afford  lessons, 
and  it  would  be  impossible  to  offer  to  pay  for 
them,  so  Loys  proposed  that  I  become  her 
teacher;  and  as  Loys  rarely  asks  anything  of 
me,  I  assented.  You  see,  I  really  deserve  no 
credit." 

Van  Arsdale  let  his  gloved  hand  fall  upon 
hers  for  an  instant.  "  No,"  he  conceded,  softly ; 
"no,  you  deserve  no  credit  at  all." 

Penelope  thought  she  had    never  seen  the 


A   HOUSE   OF   CARDS.  127 

Park  in  better  mood.  It  is  always  clothed  in 
impeccable  freshness  ;  but  that  day,  to  Penelope, 
the  ever-changing  greens  of  its  dense  leafage, 
the  well-kept  grass,  and  the  velvet-coated  flow- 
ers nodding  gently  in  the  just  stirring  breeze, 
seemed  something  she  had  never  seen  before. 

The  driveway  was  gay  with  carriages,  although 
a  thoroughly  well-appointed  equipage  was  the 
exception,  not  the  rule. 

"Isn't  that  Loys  with  the  Underhill  chil- 
dren?" cried  Penelope,  pointing  down  a  side 
path. 

"Why  can't  you  take  the  horses,  Van  Ars- 
dale,"  asked  Yorke,  "  while  I  go  back  to  find 
Mrs.  Kendall  and  persuade  her  to  come  with 
us?" 

A  few  yards  farther  on,  Van  Arsdale  took 
the  reins,  and  Yorke  turned  his  steps  toward 
the  children's  playgrounds,  where  Penelope 
thought  Loys  had  probably  gone. 

When  he  reached  the  grounds,  he  could 
descry  Loys  marshalling  her  young  friends  to 
the  merry-go-round.  The  two  older  children 
elected  to  sail  in  the  boats.  Loys  took  up  her 
stand  next  to  the  youngest  child,  who  was 
astride  a  horse.  Her  back  was  turned  to  Yorke, 
but  he  could  see  that  she  was  trying  to  induce 


128  A   HOUSE   OF   CARDS. 

the  little  girl  to  cease  her  sobs.  The  child 
would  not  be  quieted,  but  obdurately  continued 
to  point  to  the  charger  beside  her  o\vn. 

Loys's  lips  were  slightly  compressed  as  she 
mounted  her  horse,  but  one  rebellious  dimple 
showed  she  was  alive  to  the  ridiculousness  of 
the  situation. 

The  merry-go-round  was  now  in  motion ;  the 
boats  careened  gayly,  the  animals  tossed  their 
heads  bravely  to  the  rhythm  of  the  weird 
noises  evolved  from  the  internal  organs  of  the 
machine.  As  the  circle  was  described,  Yorke 
saw  that  Loys  was  upon  the  most  spirited  steed 
of  the  cavalcade.  Perhaps  the  music  inspired 
him  with  ardor,  perhaps  his  fair  burden.  He 
seemed  almost  to  rise  on  his  painted  hind  legs 
as  he  curveted  along,  and  Yorke,  who  had 
grown  slightly  confused  by  his  unrestrained 
laughter,  and  the  courtesying  of  the  ungainly 
monster,  imagined  he  could  perceive  the  wicked 
gleam  of  his  eye.  Loys  kept  her  seat,  not 
through  her  superior  horsemanship,  but  because 
she  had  wound  her  arms  tightly  round  the  neck 
of  the  animal. 

Yorke  leaned  against  a  convenient  post,  in  a 
very  ecstasy  of  mirth.  People  looked  at  him 
pityingly,  but  he  was  blissfully  unconscious  of 


A   HOUSE  OF   CARDS.  129 

his  own'  antics.  Again  Loys  swept  into  view ; 
but  at  sight  of  her  face  Yorke  stilled  his 
laughter.  She  was  absolutely  colorless,  and  her 
eyes  were  closed.  The  rotary  movement  sud- 
denly ceased,  and  the  children  clambered 
down  from  their  perches;  Loys  dismounted 
with  majestic  composure.  When  Yorke  saw 
her  quivering  lips  he  took  her  arm. 

"  How  cruel  you  were  to  watch  me,"  she 
cried,  a  tremulous  little  break  in  her  voice. 
"  You  never  took  your  eyes  off  me." 

"  But  there  was  only  one  ring  to  attract  my 
attention,"  he  protested,  in  innocent  surprise, 
"only  one  peerless  equestrienne." 

She  laughed  as  she  dropped  his  arm,  say- 
ing, "The  world  has  stopped  going  round  — 
to  me." 

They  retraced  their  steps  to  the  music-stand, 
where  they  found  Penelope  and  Van  Arsdale 
awaiting  them. 

Loys  did  not  wish  to  drive,  as  she  saw  that 
the  cart  would  not  accommodate  them  all,  but 
her  objections  were  overruled.  Yorke  installed 
the  little  girl  upon  his  knee.  She  was  a  beauti- 
ful child,  three  or  four  years  of  age,  whose 
charming  manners  endeared  her  to  every  one. 

Yorke  asked  her  her  name. 
9 


130  A    HOUSE   OF    CARDS. 

"  Loys  tails  me  Baby  Blue  Eyes,  'tause  my 
eyes  is  blue,  but  my  wight  name  is  Elizabeth 
Gwant  Underhill.  I  know  what  Elizabeth  be- 
gins with.  It  begins  with  a  E."  She  looked  up 
to  note  the  effect  of  her  astounding  knowledge. 

"So  it  does,"  replied  Yorke.  "  I  wonder  if 
you  know  the  letter  with  which  my  name 
begins,  —  Yorke." 

After,  a  moment's  consideration,  she  shook 
her  head.  "  But  I  know  Stephen's  letter,  — 
it's  S,  —  and  Fweddie's  letter  is  F.  They  are 
on  our  stockings.  Do  you  want  to  see?" 

Without  more  ado,  she  brought  .up  one 
ridiculously  small  foot  from  underneath  the  robe, 
and  displayed  a  neat  little  German  "  E "  in 
red,  which  was  sewed  to  the  inside  of  her 
stocking. 

"Will  you  tell  me  your  letter  now?"  she 
went  on. 

« It  is  Y." 

"  Y,  Y,"  she  repeated  to  herself.  Then  she 
added,  "  That 's  the  most  cuwiosest  letter,  is  n't 
it?  It  always  asks  so  many  questions." 

"  I  wonder  if  your  hand  can  do  what  mine 
can,"  mused  Yorke.  "Now,  you  see,  it  is 
closed,  but  if  you  blow  on  it  three  times  I  think 
it  may  open." 


A    HOUSE   OF    CARDS.  131 

She  puffed  out  her  little  cheeks,  and  blew 
and  blew  and  blew,  until  she  was  as  red  as  the 
rose  Loys  had  tucked  in  her  belt,  and  Yorke's 
hand  opened. 

"  I  can  do  that  too,"  volunteered  Freddie. 

"  Let 's  see,"  urged  his  incredulous  sister, 
resuming  her  hard  work,  this  time  over  Freddie's 
hand,  and,  much  to  her  astonishment,  with  the 
same  result. 

"  Close  your  hand  now,"  prompted  Yorke, 
"and  let  us  see  if  it  will  not  open  when  I 
blow  on  it  for  the  third  time."  But  with  all 
his  blowing,  the  little  maid's  hand  remained 
clenched. 

"  P'w'aps  if  you  blowed  four  times,"  she 
herself  suggested.  Yorke  again  blew  in  vain, 
and  the  little  boys  laughed  at  their  sister's 
density;  but  she  was  not  at  all  dismayed. 

"  I  dess  it 's  dust  my  will,  that  my  marmee 
says  '11  have  to  be  bwoke.  When  she  wants  me 
to  go  to  bed,  some  times  my  will  don't  want  to 
go,  but  I  do,  'tause  my  popsy  don't  love  me 
when  I  don't  mind.  Me  and  my  will  has  awful 
times." 

She  prattled  on  and  on,  talking  of  the  ocean 
and  the  horses  and  the  people,  until  she  tired 
herself  out. 


132  A   HOUSE   OF   CARDS. 

"  My  eyes  dust  won't  stay  open,"  she  con- 
fided. "  I  fink  I  '11  have  to  button  them  tight. 
May  I  go  to  sleep  with  Loys?  " 

"May  I  kiss  her?"  Yorke  asked  of  Loys, 
who  nodded  assent. 

"Do  you  want  to  be  tissed  like  Loys?  It's 
hard;  it  might  hurt  you,"  the  child  warned. 

York  preserved  an  undaunted  front,  and  she 
clasped  her  arms  round  his  neck  and  pressed 
her  dewy  lips  to  his. 

"  When  I  tiss  Loys  like  that,  she  wishes  she 
had  a  little  dirl  dust  like  me,  and  me  and  my 
marmee  pways  —  " 

Yorke  silenced  the  child  by  a  kiss,  and  laid 
her  in  Loys's  arms,  where  she  soon  fell  asleep. 

Penelope  now  entered  into  the  conversation, 
and  they  were  all  so  merry  that  Loys's  silence 
was  not  especially  marked. 

"  The  children  are  to  stay  with  me  for  a  few 
days,  as  their  mother  must  have  absolute  quiet," 
explained  Loys,  as  she  alighted  at  her  own  door, 
and  Penelope  and  Van  Arsdale  drove  away. 
"They  are  going  to  have  their  dinner  at  once. 
Will  you  come  in  ?  " 

It  was  then  only  five,  and  Yorke  entered 
with  them.  The  nurse  took  the  children  away 
to  wash  them,  but  soon  the  three  hungry  little 


A    HOUSE   OF   CARDS.  133 

people  were  seated  at  the  table,  and  at  their 
invitation  Yorke  also  ate  with  them.  They 
never  forgot  that  meal,  nor  did  Yorke,  though 
he  remembered  it  for  another  reason  than 
theirs. 

When  he  had  performed  his  last  trick  and 
sung  his  last  song,  he  went  away.  The  children 
followed  him  to  the  door,  and  watched  him 
until,  at  the  corner  of  the  street,  he  turned 
once  more  to  bow,  then  passed  out  of  sight. 

The  sky  was  already  stained  with  the  orange 
shadows. 

A  few  moments  later,  Kendall  reached  home, 
and  as  Loys  met  him  in  the  hall,  he  said,  "  I 
wonder  what  is  the  matter  with  Yorke.  I  passed 
him  just  now,  but  he  did  not  see  me.  He 
looked  like  a  thunder-cloud." 

Then  they  joined  the  children,  and  Kendall 
romped  with  them  until  the  nurse  bore  them 
away  to  bed,  and  he  and  Loys  sat  down  to 
dinner. 


Chapter   XL 


ENDALL  rose  lazily  from  the  depths  of 
the  arm-chair  in  which  he  had  been 
ensconced. 

"  If  I  were  not  to  sing,  I  should  not  have 
the  courage  to  venture  out,"  he  declared,  listen- 
ing to  the  monotonous  patter  of  the  rain  against 
the  window-panes.  "  I  don't  believe  I  shall  go, 
anyway.  The  Jinks  will  get  along  without  me," 
he  murmured,  sinking  back  into  his  chair. 

Loys  smiled  confidentially  at  the  handker- 
chief into  which  she  was  embroidering  his 
monogram. 

"But  will  it  not  spoil  the  whole  affair?" 
queried  Helen  Sargent. 

"Perhaps  it  would,"  acceded  Kendall,  as- 
suming a  tone  of  seriousness,  "  so  I  presume 
it  is  my  duty  to  go.  Don't  suppose  you  have 
blinded  me ;  I  see  how  anxious  you  and  Loys 
are  to  be  alone.  By  George,  I  have  n't  a 
cigar,"  he  added. 


A   HOUSE  OF   CARDS.  135 

Loys  laid  down  her  work,  saying,  "I  know 
where  I  put  the  box." 

"I'll  get  it  myself,"  he  remonstrated,  try- 
ing to  restrain  her  from  leaving  the  room. 
Neither  would  return,  and  it  ended  by  the  two 
of  them  running  upstairs  for  the  cigars. 

"  You  might  just  as  well  have  let  me  go 
alone,"  panted  Kendall,  as  they  returned,  and 
he  struggled  into  his  top-coat. 

"  So  might  you,"  she  reminded.  "  Some- 
times, I  almost  believe  that  you  missed  your 
vocation.  From  the  amount  of  stubbornness 
you  possess,  you  must,  originally,  have  been 
intended  for  a  mule." 

"  Pray,  why  could  n't  you  give  in?  " 

"  Simply  because  I  wish  you  to  learn  that 
you  cannot  always  have  your  own  way,  sir. 
Then,  again,"  she  confided,  "  I  like  to  make 
home  pleasant  for  you  before  sending  you  off 
to  Bohemia.  I  realize  full  well  the  danger  I 
am  fronting  in  sending  you  from  me;  but  at 
the  club  there  will  be  no  one  to  divine  your 
wants,  as  I  do." 

She  stood  leaning  lightly  against  him,  regard- 
ing him  with  gravely  demure  eyes. 

"What  a  little  fraud  you  are  ! "  he  protested, 
lifting  her  face  to  his. 


136  A   HOUSE   OF   CARDS. 

Helen  Sargent  could  not  avoid  overhearing 
their  conversation,  which  was  being  carried  on 
in  the  hall.  Her  breast  stirred  with  dull  pain ; 
she  wondered  if  she,  too,  would  ever  be  as 
happy  as  Loys. 

"Now  we  shall  be  quite  cosey,"  Loys  de- 
clared, after  seeing  Kendall  to  the  door. 
"What  has  been  fretting  you,  dear?" 

"  I  am  tired  of  it  all,"  Helen  broke  out,  her 
handsome  face  kindling  with  a  sense  of  her 
wrongs,  "  so  tired  of  the  monotony  of  it  all, 
that  I  am  almost  tempted  to  say  I  will  marry 
Mr.  Hawkes." 

With  an  effort,  Loys  restrained  a  movement 
of  apprehension. 

"  It  is  the  rain,"  she  said,  "  and  the  over- 
work which  has  brought  you  to  this  frame  of 
mind.  To-morrow  you  will  not  be  in  this 
mood." 

"Perhaps  not,"  allowed  the  girl,  "but  this 
mood  is  getting  to  be  my  normal  one.  I  know 
the  rain  has  something  to  do  with  it." 

"  Of  course  it  has,"  agreed  Loys.  "  You 
left  home  early  this  morning  and  walked  three 
or  four  blocks  to  get  your  car,  holding  up 
your  skirts  in  one  hand  and  your  umbrella  in 
the  other.  Petticoats  are  an  awful  nuisance  in 


A   HOUSE  OF   CARDS.  137 

the  rain;  you  cannot  keep  them  spotless,  no 
matter  how  careful  you  are,  and  that  is  enough 
to  spoil  one's  day." 

"Then  it  cleared  at  one,  and  when  I  left 
school  at  half-past  three,  I  met  throngs  of  well- 
dressed  women,  and  I  was  morbidly  conscious 
of  my  rainy-weather  gown.  The  children  acted 
like  little  demons,  as  they  usually  do  after  being 
kept  indoors  at  the  recesses,  and  I  had  not  a 
second  to  myself.  Coming  home  in  the  car, 
after  giving  my  private  lesson,  I  met  Mrs. 
Woods,  who  leaned  across  to  ask  me,  in  a  tone 
which  could  be  heard  from  one  end  of  the 
car  to  the  other,  if  I  always  worked  so  late. 
What  is  the  good  of  going  round  publishing  the 
fact  that  I  work?  I  am  not  ashamed  of  it; 
in  fact,  I  am  rather  proud  of  earning  over  a 
hundred  dollars  a  month,  for  it  proves  I  can- 
not be  entirely  without  brains  ;  but  there  is  no 
sense  in  advertising  my  bondage." 

Loys's  face  was  alive  with  sympathy.  Helen 
Sargent  had  a  peculiar  interest  for  her;  she 
saw  in  the  girl  her  self  of  two  or  three  years 
ago. 

"  It  is  all  very  well  to  speak  of  this  demo- 
cratic America  of  ours,"  the  girl  hurried  on, 
"  but  there  is  no  such  thing  as  democracy.  I 


138  A   HOUSE   OF   CARDS. 

am  tired  of  being  patronized.  I  can  remember 
the  time  when  we  still  had  money,  and  the 
difference  between  our  treatment  then  and  now 
rankles.  I  confess  I  am  weary  of  the  constant 
struggle  to  make  both  ends  meet." 

"  If  you  could  only  do  that,  you  could  make 
your  fortune  in  some  circus,"  Loys  reminded, 
seeing  the  tension  must  be  loosened. 

Helen's  face  brightened  for  an  instant. 

"  And  Mr.  Hawkes  is  the  only  escape  I  see," 
she  resumed.  "  If  I  had  the  time  to  practise 
properly,  I  might  be  able  to  bear  it  all ;  but  I 
am  exhausted  at  night,  and  my  voice  will  not 
obey  the  demands  I  put  upon  it.  So  I  have 
decided  to  marry  Mr.  Hawkes,  and  patronize 
instead  of  being  patronized,  and  ride  in  my 
carriage,  and  —  " 

"  And  be  miserable  ever  afterward,"  supplied 
Loys,  firmly.  "  Have  you  no  idea  of  what  mar- 
riage is  that  you  calmly  propose  to  link  yourself 
for  life  to  such  a  man  as  Mr.  Hawkes?" 

"  I  should  have  the  time  and  the  money  to 
cultivate  my  gift,"  the  girl  reiterated,  tenaciously. 

"  But  what  would  your  success  mean  if  you 
were  his  wife?"  demanded  Loys,  breathlessly. 
"  It  would  be  only  dead  sea  fruit.  Your  whole 
soul  is  in  your  art ;  but  you  are  a  woman,  too, 


A    HOUSE   OF    CARDS.  139 

and  you  must  not  blind  yourself  to  the  fact  that 
afterward,  when  success  was  yours,  you  would 
hunger  for  some  one  who  could  share  it  with 
you.  Is  Mr.  Hawkes  such  a  one?  " 

"  He  is  not  such  a  man  as  you  could  marry, 
but  I  do  not  dislike  him  ;  and  how  often  does  a 
girl  marry  the  man  she  loves?  She  usually 
marries  the  man  who  asks  her,  and  ends  by 
loving  him." 

"Does  she?"  deliberated  Loys.  "I  am 
going  to  tell  you  the  experience  of  a  girl  I  once 
knew.  Her  case  was  not  unlike  yours,  but  she 
married  the  man  who  loved  her,  while  you  — 
do  you  hear  me  ?  —  you  are  going  to  marry  the 
man  you  love  and  who  loves  you." 

"Where  is  your  divining-rod?"  scoffed 
Helen. 

"  The  marriage  is  not  to  take  place  for  many 
years  yet,"  pursued  Loys.  "  First,  you  are  to 
study  in  Europe,  and  sing  before  all  the  crowned 
heads  there,  and  be  applauded  to  the  echo. 
Who  ever  made  a  name  for  himself  in  San 
Francisco?  In  our  humility  we  are  afraid  to 
trust  our  own  opinions,  or  to  pronounce  well 
done  what  has  not  been  declared  so  in  Europe 
or  New  York.  Now,  are  you  going  to  marry 
Mr.  Hawkes,  with  whom  you  have  not  one  taste 


140  A    HOUSE   OF   CARDS. 

in  common,  or  are  you  going  to  make  Penelope 
happy  by  accepting  her  offer?  " 

"  Suppose,"  breathed  the  girl,  yielding,  "  Sup- 
pose, after  all,  that  you  are  mistaken,  —  that  my 
voice  will  never  be  anything  much,  or  that  it 
may  fail  me  altogether?  " 

"  I  do  not  believe  we  are  mistaken,"  main- 
tained Loys ;  "  and  if  your  voice  should  fail 
you  —  "  She  drew  a  deep  breath  and  kissed 
Helen's  tear-dimmed  face. 

"  What  was  the  experience  of  this  girl  you 
knew  years  ago?  "  asked  Helen,  dreamily. 

Loys  shuddered.  "She  — "  She  paused 
as  the  maid  admitted  Penelope,  Van  Arsdale, 
and  Yorke. 

"  I  wish  she  had  known  you,"  said  Helen, 
quickly.  "  You  would  have  made  her  life  so 
different  for  her." 

Loys  smiled  enigmatically. 

For  some  time  Helen  sat  listening  to  the 
talk  circling  about  her,  yet  comprehending  little 
but  that  they  were  speaking  of  music.  Sud- 
denly she  bent  toward  Yorke,  saying :  — 

"  Will  you  listen  to  me  sing,  and  tell  me  what 
you  think  can  be  made  of  my  voice  ?  I  am 
asking  a  great  deal,  but  I  should  appreciate 
your  opinion.  I  have  read  many  of  your  arti- 


A   HOUSE   OF   CARDS.  141 

cles  on  music,  and  I  realize  what  your  opinion 
would  be  worth.  Miss  Browning  has  offered  to 
send  me  to  Paris,  but  if  there  are  not  great 
possibilities  in  my  voice,  I  should  prefer  not  to 
go.  I  can  bear  the  truth  now  better  than 
later." 

"  Would  it  not  be  well  to  wait  until  another 
time?"  Yorke  suggested.  "You  are  over- 
excited. Let  me  come  to  you  to-morrow." 

"  I  shall  do  my  best  now." 

Penelope  rose  to  accompany  her,  vividly  con- 
scious of  Van  Arsdale's  eyes  upon  her.  She 
wondered  who  it  was  who  said  the  greatest 
pleasure  is  to  do  good  by  stealth  and  have  it 
found  out  by  accident. 

"  Do  not  attempt  anything  too  ambitious  to- 
night," cautioned  Yorke.  "  Will  you  try  this?  " 

Loys  was  trembling  with  excitement  before 
the  girl  began  to  sing  Schumann's  "  Ich  Grolle 
Nicht,"  then  a  great  calm  stole  over  her. 
Helen  was  right,  —  she  was  doing  her  best. 

When  the  song  came  to  an  end,  and  Yorke 
called  for  different  fragments  from  numerous 
operas,  to  gauge  the  compass  of  her  voice,  his 
eyes  mutely  encouraged  Helen. 

"  You  can  make  what  you  will  of  your  voice," 
he  declared,  at  length.  "  I  know  something 


142  A    HOUSE   OF   CARDS. 

of  the  drudgery  and  the  disappointments  and 
the  small  chance  of  success,  yet  I  advise  you  to 
go,  for  I  believe  you  will  triumph.  You  are 
extraordinarily  gifted.  You  are  young  and 
strong,  and  your  personality  will  help  you,"  he 
affirmed,  as  matter-of-factedly  as  though  he 
were  discussing  a  statue. 

"  There  is  a  radical  fault  with  your  breath- 
ing," he  went  on.  "You  must  lay  aside  all 
your  tight  swathings  when  practising." 

He  promised  her  letters  to  people  whose 
very  name  inspired  her  with  awe. 

"  Let  us  have  tea  now,"  urged  Penelope. 
"My  nerves  require  strengthening." 

"  We  shall  have  to  make  toast,  for  this  bread 
is  not  quite  fresh,"  said  Loys,  returning  from 
the  kitchen. 

Penelope  made  the  tea,  while  Yorke  and 
Loys,  armed  with  toasting-forks,  held  the  bread 
over  the  bed  of  red  coals.  Suddenly  the  bell 
tingled,  and  Loys,  stealing  a  hasty  glance  about 
the  room,  exclaimed,  "  Who  can  it  be  ?  Will 
you  go  to  the  door,  Mr.  Van  Arsdale  ?  Jane  is 
out,  and  I  am  afraid  our  new  cook  has  retired." 

A  moment  later,  Dr.  Haswell  stood  in  the 
room. 

"What  is  going  on?"  he  cried.     "A  picnic? 


A   HOUSE   OF   CARDS.  143 

I  stopped  before  the  door  a  while  ago  to  listen 
to  Miss  Helen,  and  promised  myself  I  should 
come  in  later  before  going  to  the  club.  There 
is  going  to  be  toast,  and  there  is  nothing  I  like 
as  much  as  hot  toast,"  he  went  on,  usurping 
Loys's  place.  "  How  is  it  you  are  having  tea  so 
early?  " 

"  I  suppose  because  we  do  not  arrange  every- 
thing by  the  clock  here  as  do  the  Bigelows," 
Loys  answered.  "  Mrs.  Bigelow  once  told  me 
that  Mr.  Bigelow  put  his  right  foot  into  bed 
every  night  at  half-past  ten,  and  I  inquired, 
thirsting  for  information,  'And  at  what  time 
does  he  put  in  his  left  foot  ?  '  Since  then,  Mrs. 
Bigelow  bows  very  frigidly." 

It  was  a  very  merry  little  feast,  and  at  its  end 
Yorke  insisted  upon  gathering  the  dishes  to- 
gether and  carrying  them  to  the  kitchen.  Then 
glasses  were  brought,  and  Helen's  success  was 
drunk  in  champagne. 

"  You  will  live  successfully  through  all  the 
hard  work,  Miss  Helen,"  prophesied  Dr.  Has- 
well.  "  You  are  the  fittest ;  you  will  survive. 
What  do  you  mean,"  he  continued,  glowering 
at  Loys,  "  by  writing  such  a  morbid  story  as 
that  of  yours  in  '  The  Cycle '  ?  There  are  to  be 
no  more  of  that  kind.  You  are  to  make  my 


144  A   HOUSE   OF   CARDS. 

patients  laugh ;  do  you  hear  ?  and  you  are  to 
laugh  yourself  while  writing  them.  It  would 
have  been  a  better  story  —  though  it  might 
have  been  sinning  against  all  the  canons  of  art 
—  if  you  had  brought  it  to  a  happy  conclusion." 

"  It  is  more  a  study  in  heredity  than  a  story, 
and  it  could  not  possibly  have  ended  happily," 
Loys  protested.  "  Because  of  the  fixed  laws  of 
nature  which  decree  that  a  child  must  suffer 
for  the  father's  sins,  and  because  of  her  environ- 
ment, she  could  not  escape  the  end.  The  story 
is  not  a  bright  one,  but  to  me  it  concludes  well. 
With  her  death  the  chain  was  broken,  the 
misery  was  not  to  be  perpetuated  farther." 

"  It  must  be  time  for  you  to  go  to  the  club," 
interrupted  Penelope,  hurriedly. 

"  Don't  you  wish  you  were  going  to  the  Low 
Jinks,  too?  "  ventured  Dr.  Haswell. 

"  Indeed,  we  don't,"  retorted  Penelope.  "We 
understand  they  are  to  be  very  low." 

" '  A  paradox  I  know  it  seems,  but 't  is  a  truth  sublime, 
That  a  man  may  get  down  very  low,  yet  have  a  high 
old  time.' " 

quoted  Yorke. 

"  Loys,  did  I  say  only  this  evening  that  life 
was  not  worth  living?"  whispered  Helen  Sar- 


A   HOUSE  OF   CARDS.  145 

gent,  on  leaving.  "  Oh,  Loys,  no  wonder  you 
are  so  happy  when  you  make  so  many  others 
happy !  I  am  intoxicated ;  I  do  not  know 
whether  it  is  the  champagne  or  happiness." 

Loys  was  tired  when  she  finally  reached  her 
own  chamber.  She  loosened  her  hair  and 
slipped  into  a  tea-gown,  then,  taking  a  candle, 
passed  through  Kendall's  dressing-room  to  the 
apartment  which  opened  off  it. 

It  was  a  dainty  room,  all  in  white  bird's-eye 
maple,  which  had  originally  been  fitted  up  as  a 
nursery.  Loys  stood  at  the  head  of  the  little 
crib,  looking  down  at  the  unpressed  pillow. 

"  Why  can  I  not  be  as  happy  as  Helen  thinks 
me?"  she  reflected.  "If  the  little  one  had 
lived,  it  would  all  have  been  so  different. 
Perhaps  now  she  would  have  been  stirring,  and 
I  should  have  held  her  in  my  arms  and  soothed 
her  to  sleep  again.  What  pain  a  little  child's 
fingers  could  keep  out  of  one's  heart !  I  almost 
wish  Dr.  Haswell  had  not  told  me,  —  though 
possibly  it  is  better  I  should  know  the 
inevitable." 

She  leaned  over  the  cradle  as  if  about  to  kiss 
the  little  face  which  should  have  rested  there, 
then  caught  up  the  candle  swiftly,  and  retreated 
to  Kendall's  dressing-room. 
10 


146  A    HOUSE   OF    CARDS. 

"  I  must  give  the  cradle  to  some  one,"  she 
breathed,  with  difficulty,  pressing  her  hand  to 
her  heart.  "  It  is  wrong  to  encourage  myself  in 
this  pain." 

"Why  cannot  every  one  be  like  Penelope  and 
Mr.  Yorke?  His  letters  will  make  matters  so 
much  easier  for  Nell,  and  his  manner  of  offering 
them  was  so  delicate,"  her  thoughts  went  on, 
as  she  mechanically  slipped  Kendall's  links  into 
his  cuffs.  "He  has  such  great,  strong  ways, 
any  woman  might  —  I  am  tired,"  she  broke 
off,  aloud.  "  I  shall  go  to  bed."  But  she 
made  no  move. 

"I  am  glad  Riker  Van  Arsdale  heard  of 
Pen's  generosity,"  she  continued,  smiling  remi- 
niscently.  "  If  I  only  dared  to  tell  him  —  but 
I  don't.  I  believe,  too,  it  will  all  end  happily 
without  my  interference.  Was  it  Balzac  who 
said,  'Love  is  a  game  at  which  one  always 
cheats '  ?  " 

She  took  up  the  magazine  in  which  appeared 
the  story  Dr.  Haswell  had  so  ruthlessly  attacked, 
and  tried  to  read  it  impartially. 

"  Despite  what  he  said,  I  agree  with  the 
critics :  it  is  the  best  short  story  I  have  yet 
written,"  she  argued.  "  It  is  strange,  but  when 
Dr.  Haswell  was  speaking,  not  one  of  them 


A   HOUSE   OF   CARDS.  147 

came  to  my  assistance ;  they  all  preserved  a 
chilling,  disapproving  silence.  Mr.  Yorke  has 
discussed  my  other  work  at  such  length,  it  seems 
odd  he  should  -not  have  mentioned  this.  No, 
it  is  not  a  pleasing  story ;  but  I  do  think  the 
workmanship  good." 

When  she  finally  reached  bed,  she  gave  her- 
self up  to  the  delightful  pastime  of  planning 
Helen's  future.  It  seemed  but  a  short  time 
later  that  she  heard  a  carriage  stop  before  the 
house,  and  then  Kendall  enter.  At  the  thresh- 
old he  stumbled,  and  Loys  heard  him  swear 
softly  at  his  own  awkwardness.  He  turned  on 
the  light,  and,  glancing  over  at  the  bed,  per- 
ceived she  was  awake. 

"  Did  I  waken  you?  "  he  asked,  contritely. 

Ordinarily,  Kendall's  voice  was  of  remarkable 
sweetness.  That  night  it  sounded  muffled  and 
indistinct.  He  sat  down  on  the  edge  of  the 
bed,  and  rested  his  head  on  his  palm.  Loys 
drew  away,  her  face  distorted  by  a  spasm  of 
pain. 

"  Yorke's  paper  was  the  success  of  the  first 
part  of  the  evening,"  he  announced,  "and 
Charlie  Richmond's  imitations  were  splendid. 
Yorke  and  Van  left  early,  and  they  'sisted  upon 
seeing  me  to  the  carriage.  I  'm  'shamed  of  my- 


148  A    HOUSE   OF   CARDS. 

self,  'shamed  you  should  see  me.     I   think   I 
drank  too  much,"  he  confided,  gravely. 

Then  he  commenced  to  laugh  foolishly  as 
the  remembrance  of  some  dubious  bon  mot  of 
one  of  the  wits  of  the  club  flashed  into  his 
confused  thoughts. 

"That  was  a  good  one  of  Whiting's,"  he  ram- 
bled on.  "I'll  tell  it  to  you.  It's  rather  —  " 

"I  do  not  wish  to  hear  it,"  she  insisted, 
sharply.  "I  think  you  had  better  go  to  bed." 

"  P'rapsh  I  had,"  he  agreed,  looking  at  her 
with  owl-like  solemnity.  "  I  say,  Loys,  you  're 
looking  handsome  —  No  need  to  be  so  angry, 
m'  dear." 

Loys  lay  motionless  and  sleepless.  She  had 
never  before  seen  Kendall  under  the  influence 
of  wine,  and  it  filled  her  with  disgust.  She 
wondered  what  Van  Arsdale  and  Yorke  thought 
when  they  put  him  in  the  coupe1 .  Being  a  woman, 
she  could  not  be  expected  to  know  how  differ- 
ently a  man  regards  an  occurrence  of  the  kind, 
and  that  Gregory's  head  was  much  steadier  than 
those  of  many  of  his  fellow  club  members  at 
the  same  moment. 

She  thought  she  had  been  asleep  for  only 
five  or  ten  minutes  when  she  was  awakened  by 
her  own  cry.  She  was  gasping  for  breath. 


A  HOUSE  OF   CARDS.  149 

The  room  was  hot  to  suffocation  and  filled  with 
smoke. 

She  shook  Kendall  by  the  arm,  calling  him 
loudly.  He  was  awake  on  the  instant,  and 
conscious. 

"  If  only  the  stairs  are  not  on  fire,"  he  cried, 
springing  up.  He  hurriedly  got  into  some  of 
his  clothes,  and  went  round  to  assist  Loys. 

Afterward  she  remembered  that  he  was  calm 
and  self-possessed.  The  halls  were  full  of 
smoke,  but  no  flames  were  visible,  and  they 
made  their  way  to  the  street.  The  lower  floor 
of  the  adjoining  house  was  in  flames,  but  its 
inmates  had  escaped.  It  was  clear  that  the  fire 
had  not  yet  communicated  itself  to  the  Kendall's 
house. 

As  the  cool  night  air  struck  Loys,  her  excite- 
ment lessened.  She  clutched  Kendall's  arm, 
crying,  "We  forgot  the  servants."  She  looked 
at  him  eagerly,  as  a  child  looks  to  one  much 
older  and  wiser  than  himself,  for  help. 

"  The  firemen  will  soon  be  here.  There  will 
be  time  enough  then." 

"They  must  be  saved  now,  now,"  she 
persisted. 

She  gazed  at  him  in  stupid  incredulity  as  his 
grasp  upon  her  arm  tightened,  then  broke  away, 


150  A    HOUSE   OF    CARDS. 

and  ran  up  the  steps.  The  cries  of  the  people 
in  the  street  reached  her,  but  she  closed  the 
house  door  behind  her  and  fled  through  the 
lower  hall.  She  paused  before  the  cook's  room, 
which  adjoined  the  kitchen.  The  woman  had 
already  been  roused  by  the  noise,  and  opened 
the  door  to  Loys's  rapping. 

"I  am  going  to  call  Jane,"  Loys  said,  making 
her  way  up  the  rear  staircase,  through  the 
blinding  smoke. 

The  woman  called  to  her,  but  what,  Loys  did 
not  hear.  The  flames  had  now  broken  into  the 
lower  hall,  and  she  was  intent  upon  reaching 
Jane. 

She  beat  the  door  of  the  room  with  her 
slender  hands,  and  called  and  called,  but  there 
was  no  response.  She  turned  the  door-knob 
noisily  to  and  fro,  until  it  seemed  impossible 
that  the  maid  could  still  be  asleep.  Suddenly 
the  door  opened,  —  Loys  had  opened  it  herself, 
—  and  she  stood  within  the  now  brilliantly  lit 
room  only  to  see  that  the  maid's  bed  had  not 
been  occupied.  Then  she  remerfibered  that 
she  had  given  Jane  permission  to  remain  with 
her  mother  that  night. 

She  sank  down  on  a  chair,  pressing  her  hand 
to  her  madly  beating  heart.  She  knew  she 


A   HOUSE   OF   CARDS.  !£! 

ought  not  to  rest,  but  was  powerless  to  move. 
It  seemed  very  quiet  and  restful  in  the  little 
room,  and  the  street  was  all  alive  with  noise. 
She  was  dimly  conscious  of  the  fact  that  her 
arm  was  paining  her,  and  she  looked  down  at  it. 
Above  the  elbow  the  sleeve  had  been  burned 
away.  She  recollected  that  as  she  had  made 
her  way  through  the  hall,  a  little  flame  had  shot 
through  the  wall  and  leaped  at  her,  but  she  had 
had  the  presence  of  mind  to  beat  the  fire  out 
with  the  shawl  she  yet  held  in  her  hand. 

She  continued  to  sit  motionless,  listlessly 
wondering  where  Gregory  was  and  what  he  was 
doing,  and  why  she  had  looked  to  him  to 
arouse  the  servants.  Why  should  she  not  have 
thought  at  once  of  doing  the  work  herself?  Was 
his  life  less  precious  or  sweet  than  hers? 

What  would  the  firemen  think  of  those  dishes 
Bishop  Yorke  had  piled  up  on  the  table  ?  What 
a  gay  little  supper  they  were  having  now  that 
Helen  had  scored  such  a  success  !  She  frowned 
at  Gregory's  loud  laughter  as  he  raised  his  glass 
to  drink  to  the  girl.  But  suddenly  they  all 
grew  very  still  as  Helen  rose  to  sing. 

It  was  very  strange,  but,  somehow,  she  was 
singing  the  song  of  the  girl  next  door,  and  some 
one  was  beating  time  to  it  with  an  axe  —  and  — 


Chapter   XII. 


JR.  Haswell  and  Bishop  Yorke  went  home 
together  from  the  festivities  at  the  Bo- 
hemian Club.  Their  route  took  them  in  the 
direction  of  the  Kendall's  house,  and  their  pro- 
gress was  impeded  by  the  fire  apparatus. 

The  two  men  stepped  from  the  carriage,  and 
saw  that  the  Kendall's  home  was  in  flames. 
There  were  murmurs  in  the  crowd  about  them 
that  a  woman  was  in  one  of  the  burning  houses, 
and  as  they  pressed  anxiously  forward,  they  saw 
Loys  carried  out. 

In  an  instant  Dr.  Haswell  assumed  com- 
mand, and,  placing  Loys  in  the  carriage,  directed 
the  driver  to  Penelope  Browning's. 

The  household  had  already  been  aroused  by 
the  fire.  A  few  moments  later  Loys  was  in 
bed,  but  it  was  some  time  before  Dr.  Haswell 
succeeded  in  restoring  her  to  consciousness. 

At  last  she  lay  back  upon  the  pillows,  look- 
ing about  her,  then  suddenly  she  started  up, 
crying,  deliriously,  "  He  did  try  to  save  them, 


A  HOUSE  OF  CARDS.  153 

but  I  pushed  him  back.  Do  you  hear,  he  did 
try.  No  one  is  to  think  Gregory  a  coward." 

In  the  short  drive  to  Penelope's,  Kendall 
had  given  an  unvarnished  recital  of  what  had 
taken  place.  He  had  not  tried  to  shield  him- 
self, freely  confessing  that  in  his  excitement  he 
had  been  unable  to  think  of  any  one  but  them- 
selves ;  but  now,  as  Loys's  words  sounded  in  his 
ears,  he  cowered  away  from  her. 

"  Loys,  I  did  not  save  them,"  he  began. 

The  physician  looked  up  at  him  pityingly, 
then  said,  "  Hush  !  She  is  to  have  her  own 
way  about  it.  Send  Yorke  to  me.  I  shall  need 
assistance  in  bandaging  Mrs.  Kendall's  arm, 
and  I  know  Yorke  can  render  it  more  ably 
than  you  in  your  present  state." 

Kendall  found  Yorke  in  an  adjoining  room 
with  Penelope  and  Mrs.  Luttrell. 

"  Haswell  wants  you  to  help  him  bandage 
Loys's  arm.  Don't  refuse,  man,"  he  exclaimed, 
as  Yorke  retreated.  "She  will  not  even  know 
you  are  there,  for  she  is  delirious.  Come." 

Still  Yorke  made  no  movement.  The  two 
women  looked  at  him  in  astonishment.  It  was 
a  moment  at  which  the  conventionalities  might 
well  be  laid  aside. 

"Go,"  Mrs.  Luttrell  directed.  "You  can 
probably  aid  him  better  than  we  can." 


154  A   HOUSE   OF   CARDS. 

Nothing  remained  for  Yorke  but  to  obey. 
Like  a  man  in  a  dream  he  followed  Kendall 
into  the  room. 

Kendall  made  a  hasty  step  forward,  crying, 
"  She  has  fainted  again." 

The  physician  looked  up  from  his  work  an- 
grily. "  I  want  quiet,  —  do  you  understand  ? 
—  absolute  quiet.  I  can  rely  upon  you,  Yorke. 
Hand  me  the  articles  as  I  require  them." 

In  the  meantime,  he  was  again  bringing  Loys 
back  to  consciousness. 

The  right  sleeve  had  been  cut  from  the 
night-robe,  and  the  upper  portion  of  the  arm 
was  swathed  in  linen ;  but  from  the  elbow  down 
the  flesh  showed,  white  and  unmarred,  against 
the  delicate  blue  of  the  silken  coverlet. 

Yorke  had  not  understood  his  own  reluctance 
to  obey  Kendall's  request,  but  in  the  unbroken 
quiet  of  the  sick-room  he  awakened  to  a  per- 
ception of  the  truth.  He  was  face  to  face  with 
the  fact  that  he  was  in  love  with  Gregory 
Kendall's  wife.  He  felt  he  had  no  right  to  be 
there,  yet  he  could  not  retreat. 

At  Dr.  Haswell's  motion,  Yorke  drew  back 
into  the  shadow  of  the  draped  bed,  as  Loys, 
with  a  long-drawn  sigh,  opened  her  eyes. 

"I  am  going  to  bandage  your  arm  now,"  said 


A    HOUSE   OF   CARDS.  155 

the  physician,  leaning  over  her,  "  and  then  you 
are  going  to  sleep." 

"Yes,  but  first  Gregory  must  go  from  the 
room,"  she  said,  holding  out  her  hand  to  her 
husband.  "  Go  to  bed  now,  so  that  you  may 
be  able  to  take  care  of  me  to-morrow.  I  do 
not  wish  you  to  see  how  ugly  my  arm  looks,  — 
you  are  to  think  of  it  as  it  was." 

"  You  had  better  go  before  I  put  you  out 
bodily,"  threatened  the  physician,  moving  from 
the  bed  for  a  preparation  of  cocaine. 

Kendall  bent  over  Loys,  whispering,  "  Do 
you  forgive  me  for  my  cowardice?  Do  you 
love  me  still?  " 

She  tried  to  sit  up  among  the  pillows.  "  You 
were  not  cowardly;  you  were  about  to  enter 
the  house  when  I  pushed  you  away,"  she  in- 
sisted excitedly.  "  Don't  you  think  I  can 
remember  what  occurred  as  well  as  you  ? " 
She  slipped  her  left  arm  about  his  neck,  and 
pressed  his  face  to  hers.  "  Good-night,  dear," 
she  added. 

Kendall  turned  away,  not  ashamed  of  the 
tears  -in  his  eyes. 

"And  now,"  said  Dr.  Haswell,  moving  to  the 
bed,  "  Now,  we  shall  take  care  of  the  arm." 

"  Close  the  doors,  please.      I  do  not  wish 


156  A   HOUSE   OF  CARDS. 

them  to  hear  me,  and  I  am  afraid  I  shall  cry  : 
it  is  paining  me  so  much  now." 

"  Yes,  I  know ;  but  it  will  pain  less  in  a  few 
moments.  Be  sure  to  help  me  by  your  bravery. 
It  will  soon  be  over." 

His  skilful  fingers  were  already  on  the  ban- 
dage. Loys  closed  her  eyes  and  clenched  her 
teeth,  to  repress  a  moan.  Without  clearly  real- 
izing what  he  was  doing,  Yorke  leaned  over 
and  looked  at  the  scarred  flesh.  He  drew 
back,  white  to  the  lips,  trembling  in  every 
nerve.  He  handed  the  physician  the  different 
articles  as  they  were  required,  but  he  had  no 
knowledge  of  his  movements. 

"  Hurry,"  Loys  breathed  once.  It  seemed 
to  Yorke  that  the  physician  was  exulting  in  the 
time  he  was  taking. 

At  last  the  task  was  completed,  and  Loys  lay 
back,  white  and  exhausted,  trying  to  smile. 

"Don't  laugh  at  me,"  she  implored.  "I 
know  I  cannot  bear  physical  pain.  But  once  I 
moaned  so  loud  I  heard  it  myself;  it  seemed 
as  if  it  must  be  some  one's  else  moan,  it  was 
so  distinct." 

"  I  did  not  hear  you,"  affirmed  Dr.  Haswell. 
"  There,  close  your  eyes,  and  sleep  will  soon  come 
to  you.  I  am  going  to  stay  with  you  a  while." 


A    HOUSE    OF    CARDS.  157 

"  You  are  not  to  remain  all  night,  as  you  did 
last  September,  even  after  you  had  promised  to 
go  home,"  she  remonstrated,  wearily,  closing 
her  eyes. 

Dr.  Haswell  smiled  up  at  Yorke,  but  received 
no  answering  smile.  Without  one  backward 
glance,  Yorke  passed  from  the  room. 

"Was  there  much  pain?"  demanded  Ken- 
dall, who  stood  without  the  door. 

Yorke  nodded  assent.  "  Her  arm  —  It  is 
awful  to  witness  a  woman's  pain  and  feel  your- 
self helpless  to  lessen  it.  If  she  had  moaned, 
I  could  have  stood  it,  but  she  was  so  brave  —  " 
His  voice  broke. 

Neither  Penelope  nor  Mrs.  Luttrell  knew  of 
any  good  he  could  do  by  remaining  in  the 
house,  as  Dr.  Haswell  had  signified  his  inten- 
tion to  stay  with  Loys  all  night. 

Yorke  shuddered  as  the  night  air  struck  him. 

He  walked  on  and  on,  heedless  of  the  direc- 
tion of  his  steps.  Twice  he  found  himself 
before  Penelope's  door.  The  faint  glimmer  of 
light  in  the  upper  room  attracted  him  irresist- 
ibly. He  seemed  impotent  to  resist  its  puis- 
sant spell. 

Bishop  Yorke  had  never  pretended  to  be  a 
whit  better  than  his  fellows.  He  had  run  the 


158  A   HOUSE   OF    CARDS. 

gamut  of  pleasure,  but  he  had  never  dwelt  on 
any  particular  note.  At  that  moment  of  intro- 
spection, he  was  glad  to  find  he  need  be 
ashamed  to  look  no  man  or  woman  in  the  face, 
—  he  must  take  heed  that  he  could  make  the 
same  boast  in  the  future. 

He  had  once  declared  that  to  love  was  a 
waste  of  time,  and  he  had  lived  too  full  a  life  to 
waste  time.  When  he  had  planned  his  future, 
there  had  always  been  a  woman  in  it,  —  his 
ideal  woman ;  he  was  not  yet  so  old  as  to  have 
parted  with  his  ideals.  Although  he  had  scoffed 
at  love,  he  had  believed  in  it  so  firmly  as  to 
think  it  should  be  the  foundation  of  marriage. 
Now  he  suddenly  realized  that  he  must  have 
been  egotistical,  for  he  had  never  considered 
the  possibility  of  his  falling  in  love  with  a 
woman  who  would  not  love  him.  As  usual,  it 
was  the  unexpected  that  had  happened. 

He  had  drifted  into  love  unconsciously,  but 
he  must  no  longer  continue  to  drift.  He 
would  pluck  out  this  love  frorrf*his  heart.  It 
would  soon  die  when  it  had  nothing  to  feed 
upon  ;  and  he  would  give  it  nothing,  he  resolved. 


Chapter   XIII. 


|PON  investigation,  Kendall  found  that  it 
would  take  some  time  to  repair  the 
house,  although  the  upper  portion  had  not  been 
seriously  damaged.  It  was  discovered  that  the 
building  itself  had  suffered  far  more  than  the 
contents. 

It  happened  that  a  small  furnished  house 
next  to  Penelope  Browning's  was  vacant  at  that 
time,  and  Kendall  rented  it  until  such  time  as 
the  carpenters  could  complete  his  own. 

Penelope  and  Mrs.  Luttrell  were  inclined  to 
quarrel  with  him  on  this  account,  for  they 
would  have  liked  to  keep  Loys  with  them ;  but 
she  agreed  with  Gregory  in  saying  it  was  bet- 
ter for  them  to  be  in  a  home  of  their  own, 
adding,  — 

"  You  will  be  with  me  whenever  you  like,  for 
we  shall  be  quartered  almost  on  your  lawn." 

"  Now,  Penelope  Browning,  prepare  to  give 
a  full  account  of  yourself,"  commanded  Loys 
one  morning  as  Penelope  made  her  entrance. 


l6o  A   HOUSE   OF   CARDS. 

"  Why  did  you  not  come  over  last  evening  ? 
To  what  wilder  festivity  didst  thou  go?  " 

"I  was  punished  for  not  coming.  Francis 
Grant  called,  and  you  know  how  dishearteningly 
good  he  is." 

"How  can  he  help  it,  poor  thing?"  de- 
manded Loys.  "  You  know  it  takes  two  to  be 
bad." 

"He  is  pathetically  homely,  is  he  not?" 
acceded  Penelope,  with  unkind  readiness.  "  It 
is  a  sin  for  any  woman  to  be  as  ugly  as  his 
mother." 

"  Is  n't  she  very  peculiar?  " 

"  It  is  worse  than  that.  Why,  why,  she  even 
likes  to  speak  well  of  her  friends,  and  so  does 
he ;  so  you  can  imagine  what  an  hilarious 
evening  we  had.  That  is  always  the  way ;  when 
I  try  to  punish  some  one  else,  I  succeed  in 
punishing  only  myself." 

"  What  had  we  done  that  we  were  to  be 
punished?"  urged  Loys.  "We  had  one  of 
our  old-time  evenings,  what  Gregory  calls  one 
of  my  country  'variety  performances,'  where 
each  artist  is  expected  to  contribute  a  song  or 
a  dance." 

"  I  did  not  come  for  fear  Riker  Van  Arsdale 
would  think  I  came  simply  to  see  him.  He 


A   HOUSE   OF   CARDS.  l6l 

has  not  been  near  me  for  two  weeks,  and  he 
must  have  remembered  that  he  half  promised 
to  drive  with  us  last  Saturday ;  but  I  saw  him 
with  Laura  and  Mrs.  Yorke.  Was  Bishop  here  ?  " 

"  No  ;  I  have  not  seen  him  since  the  day  he 
came  to  inquire  about  my  arm,  though  he  has 
sent  me  several  boxes  of  flowers." 

Penelope  absent-mindedly  covered  and  un- 
covered a  cloisonne  box  which  lay  on  the  table 
beside  her. 

"  Loys,"  she  commenced,  "  do  you  know 
any  of  Riker's  likes  or  dislikes  from  anything 
he  has  ever  said?  " 

Loys  pondered  a  moment  before  answering. 

"  No,  I  cannot  say  that  I  do  know  his  tastes 
at  all  except  in  art.  He  eats  whatever  is  put 
before  him ;  but  unless  his  attention  were  called 
to  it,  I  do  not  believe  he  would  know  whether 
he  were  eating  fish  or  fowl.  He  comes  here, 
but  probably  that  is  because  we  ask  him  to 
come,  and  it  is  as  easy  —  perhaps  easier  —  to 
say  '  Yes '  than  '  No.'  I  never  heard  him 
vilify  any  one,  but  neither  does  he  go  out  of  his 
way  to  commend  any  one.  Now  that  you 
mention  it,  I  do  not  think  I  ever  heard  him 
indulge  in  a  personality,  except  about  you  or 
Mr.  Yorke,  or  that  I  ever  heard  him  speak  un- 
ii  » 


l62  A   HOUSE   OF   CARDS. 

less  he  were  spoken  to,  though  he  does  not  seem 
to  be  one  of  those  alarmingly  silent  men.  Per- 
haps, when  he  was  young,  his  parents  instilled 
into  his  mind  that  children  should  be  seen  and 
not  heard,  and  he  has  never  been  able  to  rid 
himself  of  his  early  training." 

"  It  was  not  that.  Did  n't  I  ever  tell  you  his 
story?" 

"No.  What  about  him?"  demanded  Loys, 
with  all  a  healthy  man's  or  woman's  love  for 
personal  gossip. 

"  I  know  only  the  skeleton  of  the  story.  It 
seems  that  when  he  was  about  thirty,  he  fell 
in  love  with  a  woman,  who,  I  suppose,  would 
be  termed  an  adventuress.  Of  course,  he 
was  not  aware  of  this,  for  all  was  outwardly 
correct.  She  was  extremely  cultured  and  ac- 
complished, and  all  that,  and  he  proposed. 
But  she  had  also  foolishly  fallen  in  love  with 
him,  and  instead  of  marrying  him,  as  might 
have  been  expected,  she  showed  him  the  closed 
chapter  in  her  life,  —  is  not  that  beautifully 
put  ?  I  have  to  give  my  imagination  free  rein, 
because  I  do  not  know  what  really  occurred, 
though  I  think  I  can  surmise.  In  those  days, 
Riker  was  unrighteously  proud  of  his  spotless 
name ;  and  as  he  had  not  then  begun  to  wear  a 


A   HOUSE   OF  CARDS.  163 

mask,  no  doubt  he  showed  her  what  a  blow  the 
revelation  was  to  him.  But  his  love  was  stronger 
than  his  pride,  and  he  succeeded  in  overcom- 
ing her  scruples.  It  was  agreed  that  they  were 
to  be  married  at  his  aunt's  home.  You  never 
met  Mrs.  Pennell,  did  you?  No,  she  has  not 
been  here  in  the  last  five  years.  The  majority 
of  people  call  her  a  '  crank,'  but  it  would  not  be 
a  worse  world  if  there  were  more  like  her.  She 
reads  Shelley,  you  know,  and  thinks  all  virtue 
negative,  and  —  where  was  I  ?  Oh,  yes.  Well, 
Mrs.  Pennell  countenanced  the  marriage ;  but  a 
week  before  the  wedding  day  the  woman  quietly 
killed  herself.  Love  makes  us  do  droll  things, 
does  it  not?"  she  ended,  as  she  arose  to  ar- 
range her  veil  before  the  mirror. 

"  And  since  then,"  she  resumed,  at  length 
facing  Loys,  "  Riker  might  have  posed  for  that 
king  in  the  old  reader,  —  do  you  remember  that 
king  who  has  been  handed  down  in  history  as 
never  smiling  again?  You  look  as  if  you  could 
not  summon  up  a  smile.  Don't  you  know, 
young  woman,  that  it  is  the  greatest  foolish- 
ness to  allow  the  troubles  of  others  to  be  any- 
thing but  a  dream?  " 

"Some "one  ought  to  save  him  from  himself. 
It  is  not  natural  that  any  one  should  still  feel  so 


164  A   HOUSE   OF   CARDS. 

keenly  a  blow  which  fell  ten  years  ago.  We  all 
humor  him  too  much.  Something  ought  to 
be  done,"  Loys  announced,  with  pleasing 
promptitude. 

"Yes,  but  what?"  queried  Penelope,  gather- 
ing fortitude  from  the  look  of  inspiration  which 
found  birth  in  Loys's  eyes. 

"Well,"  commenced  Loys,  haltingly,  "we 
should  not  speak  to  him  unless  he  spoke  to  us, 
nor  —  " 

Penelope  gave  an  ecstatic  little  cry. 

"  You  are  an  angel,"  she  proclaimed.  "  Riker 
Van  Arsdale  shall  be  saved,  and  I  shall  save 
him."  Here  Penelope  arose  with  fine  dramatic 
effect,  looking  tall  and  slender,  not  unlike  another 
Joan  of  Arc.  "If  I  only  knew  when  he  intended 
to  honor  us  !  " 

"Did  I  not  tell  you?  He  intends  to  dine 
with  you  to-night." 

Penelope  left  Loys  in  peace  the  remainder 
of  that  day. 

Mrs.  Luttrell  refused  to  countenance  the 
project  Penelope  had  formed,  saying  it  would 
terminate  in  the  loss  of  Van  Arsdale's  friend- 
ship ;  nevertheless  she  remained  firm,  or  stub- 
born, and  it  so  fell  out  that  Van  Arsdale  and 
Penelope  dined  alone. 


A   HOUSE   OF   CARDS.  165 

She  made  no  allusion  to  his  neglect ;  in  fact, 
she  said  little  or  nothing.  She  was  as  icily  cold 
as  the  soup,  which  Van  Arsdale  ate  without  a 
glance  of  surprise  at  its  frigid  temperature. 

That  evening  she  realized,  as  never  before, 
how  much  he  had  been  humored.  They  did 
not  exchange  five  remarks  during  the  course 
of  the  dinner,  and  the  terrifying  silence  drove 
her,  despite  her  resolution,  into  making  three 
of  them  herself. 

He  stolidly  ate  the  abominably  prepared 
food  with  as  much  appetite  as  any  meal  of 
which  she  had  ever  seen  him  partake. 

They  sat  opposite  each  other  in  the  drawing- 
room  in  dreary  silence.  Penelope  was  filled 
with  a  nervous  inclination  to  laugh  at  the  ridicu- 
lous picture  they  presented.  How  idiotic  they 
did  look,  sitting  there,  without  a  word,  —  exactly 
as  if  they  had  been  married  some  four  or  five 
years  ! 

"There  were  quite  a  number  of  people  at 
the  Kendall's  last  night,"  Van  Arsdale  finally 
volunteered. 

"  Yes ;  Loys  told  me." 

Another  pause  ensued,  during  which  Penelope 
looked  wistfully  at  the  latest  novel  lying  upon 
the  table,  which  she  wished  to  discuss  with  him. 


l66  A    HOUSE   OF   CARDS. 

But  she  was  not  yet  ready  to  capitulate.  Her 
courage  was  strengthened  by  the  fact  that  Mrs. 
Luttrell  had  prophesied  defeat  for  her,  and  said 
that  she  intended  to  listen  at  the  door. 

Van  Arsdale  at  length  took  up  one  of  the 
magazines  she  had  been  reading  before  dinner, 
which  had  been  left  open,  face  downward. 

"  Can  you  not  find  something  more  worthy 
of  your  time?"  he  began.  "The  emanations 
from  this  woman's  pen  have  not  even  the  merit 
of  originality.  She  has  stolen  a  thought  here, 
an  expression  there,  and  coupled  them  to- 
gether by  foreign  words,  and  this  melange  is 
served  up  to  catch  the  attention  of  the  illiterate. 
Surely  you  saw  the  poverty  of  thought,  of  true 
art,  beneath  its  ostentatious  dress?" 

She  said  nothing  for  a  time,  looking  pensively 
into  the  fire ;  then,  as  if  with  a  mighty  effort, 
she  faltered,  "You  know,  I  wrote  it." 

He  could  frame  no  excuse  for  his  scorching 
criticism ;  he  felt  it  to  be  warranted,  but,  inad- 
vertently, he  had  hurt  her  cruelly.  He  could 
think  of  nothing  to  say,  and  silence  reigned  for 
a  little. 

"  I  did  not  think  it  so  poor.  Do  you  think 
it  would  appear  so  to  every  one?  "  she  appealed, 
raising  her  dewy  eyes  to  his. 


A   HOUSE   OF   CARDS.  167 

"No,  no,"  he  protested.  "You  know  I  am 
apt  to  be  hypercritical,  and  I  could  not  have 
been  in  a  responsive  mood  when  I  glanced 
through  it." 

She  held  out  her  hand,  with  a  heart-broken 
little  smile,  which  made  him  fancy  Blue-Beard 
a  chivalrous  gentleman  compared  with  himself. 

"  You  need  not  look  so  regretful.  You  have 
not  dealt  me  a  death-blow."  But  she  caught 
her  quivering  lip  in  her  teeth  and  turned  away 
from  him. 

"  Do  not  take  my  words  so  much  to  heart," 
he  pleaded.  "  What  do  I  know  about  an  article 
of  that  description  ?  I  am  sure  it  must  be  well 
conceived  and  written,  else  it  would  not  have 
made  its  appearance  in  those  columns.  Pene- 
lope, tell  me  I  have  not  pained  you." 

She  had  never  seen  him  so  concerned,  yet 
she  wished  more  fervently  than  ever  that  Mrs. 
Luttrell  had  not  kept  to  her  threat.  She  turned 
to  him,  her  face  working  not  with  grief,  but 
with  laughter. 

"  O  Riker  Van  Arsdale,  are  you  not  a  most 
credulous  being ! " 

He  could  not  understand  what  had  changed 
her  grief  to  sudden  merriment.  Why  did  she 
call  him  credulous  and  laugh  until  she  had  to 


l68  A    HOUSE   OF   CARDS. 

place  her  hand  over  her  wildly  palpitating  heart? 
She  could  not  speak,  but  lay  back  in  her  chair, 
her  breath  coming  in  little  bursts. 

"Could  you  not  see  I  was  jesting?  I  never 
wrote  anything." 

He  was  immoderately  relieved  that  it  was 
not  her  work  he  had  so  severely  scored,  and 
then  he  became  indignant  at  the  deception 
practised  upon  him.  He  had  held  the  offend- 
ing article  until  then  ;  but  it  now  slipped  to  the 
floor  and  lay  there  unnoticed.  All  the  warmth 
died  out  of  her  face,  —  this  time  Penelope  had 
carried  her  love  for  jesting  too  far. 

"Do  not  be  dignified  and  proud,"  she  im- 
plored. "  I  could  not  resist  the  temptation  to 
tease  you." 

"  It  was  a  needlessly  cruel  action,"  he  began ; 
then  his  mouth  relaxed  into  a  smile  which 
threatened  to  develop  into  a  hearty  laugh. 

She  slipped  off  her  chair,  kneeling  on  the 
floor,  and,  clasping  her  hands  before  her,  said  : 
"  Will  you  forgive  me  if  I  promise  never  to  do 
so  no  more?" 

His  face  burned  as  she  knelt  to  him.  The 
next  moment  she  was  back  in  her  chair,  re- 
gretting her  attitude. 

"  I  should  be  versed  in  your  wiles,  but  I  do 


A  HOUSE  OF  CARDS.  169 

not  believe  I  ever  shall  be,  nor  do  I  believe  in 
your  'never  no  more.'  By  the  way,  are  you 
aware  you  made  a  mistake?"  he  asked,  with 
rather  a  sorry  attempt  at  pleasantry. 

"  You  know  it  was  through  a  grammatical 
error  that  Dickens  came  to  believe  in  spiritual- 
ism," she  said. 

"Yes?" 

"  Yes ;  he  attended  a  stance,  and  requested 
the  attendance  of  Lindley  Murray.  'Are  you 
the  spirit  of  Lindley  Murray  ? '  he  asked,  and 
the  spirit  said,  '  I  are.'  " 

The  fallen  book  caught  his  fastidious  eyes, 
and,  without  having  to  stoop  for  it,  he  replaced 
it  upon  the  table. 

"  O  grandmamma,"  she  cried,  with  swift 
daring,  opening  wide  her  dancing  eyes,  "what 
long  arms  you  have  !  " 

Van  Arsdale  opened  his  lips,  then  closed 
them  firmly.  He  declined  to  say,  "So  much 
the  better  to  hug  you  with,  my  dear."  He 
arose  hurriedly;  at  that  moment  his  face  was 
almost  gray. 

"  I  promised  to  meet  Yorke  at  the  club. 
How  good  you  are,  Pen,  to  let  such  a  stupid 
old  fellow  as  I  am  take  up  so  much  of  your 
time.  You  must  not  let  me  do  it  in  future." 


T70  A    HOUSE   OF   CARDS. 

He  looked  at  her  eagerly,  but  she  did  not 
perceive  it.  She  was  taken  up  with  the  import 
of  his  words. 

"Pen,  my  — "  He  made  a  step  forward, 
and  came  face  to  face  with  a  mirror.  At  the 
sight  of  his  own  reflection,  he  drew  back.  The 
marked  contrast  between  them  chilled  him. 

"  Good-night,"  he  murmured,  passing  out. 

When  Mrs.  Luttrell  came  in  a  few  moments 
later,  Penelope  was  still  standing  where  Van 
Arsdale  had  left  her,  a  somnolent  smile  on  her 
lips. 

"Well,  did  you  succeed?"  asked  Mrs. 
Luttrell. 

"  I  do  not  know.     It  is  too  soon  to  tell." 

"Did  he  speak  at  all?" 

"He  did  nearly  all  the  talking.  O  old 
lady,  dear  old  lady,"  she  went  on,  putting  her 
arms  round  Mrs.  Luttrell's  neck,  "  you  would 
have  laughed,  —  laughed  as  I  am  laughing  now, 
if  you  had  only  seen  us  sitting  here." 

But  the  strange  thing  was  that  Penelope  was 
not  laughing,  but  crying  softly,  and  neither  she 
nor  Mrs.  Luttrell  knew  it. 


Chapter   XIV. 

|OYS  saw  Yorke  only  once  between  the 
night  of  the  supper  and  that  Monday 
afternoon  when  she  met  him  at  Helen  Sargent's. 

Kendall  remarked  upon  his  absence,  and 
when  he  met  him,  upbraided  him  for  his  ne- 
glect ;  but  Yorke  urged  his  business  cares,  say- 
ing that  he  went  nowhere,  being  engaged  at  night 
upon  a  course  of  papers  for  one  of  the  scientific 
monthlies.  Although  Kendall  did  not  doubt 
that  he  was  much  occupied,  he  knew  he  was 
not  altogether  a  recluse,  and  he  asked  Loys  if 
she  had  shown  him  any  coldness. 

"  I  am  quite  sure  that  I  did  not.  He  must 
have  grown  tired  of  us.  It  seems  almost  in- 
credible, —  almost  impossible,  I  grant  you ;  but 
that  is  what  must  have  occurred." 

Sometimes  she  saw  him  as  he  and  Penelope 
returned  from  their  rides,  and  sometimes  as 
he  drove  past  with  the  Underhill  children ;  but 
in  her  notes  of  thanks  for  the  flowers  he  sent 


172  A   HOUSE    OF   CARDS. 

her,  she  did  not  ask  him  to  call,  feeling  that 
he  knew  he  would  be  welcome,  and  not  wishing 
to  seem  to  press  him.  But  she  gave  some 
thought  to  his  sudden  default.  They  had 
grown  very  intimate  in  their  short  acquaintance, 
for  they  were  exceedingly  congenial.  Being  a 
widely  read  and  travelled  man,  he  had  helped 
her  much ;  but  she  now  felt  that  the  enjoyment 
had  been  all  on  one  side. 

When  she  reached  Helen  Sargent's  that  after- 
noon, Mrs.  Sargent  ushered  her  into  the  parlor, 
saying  nothing  of  Yorke's  presence.  Helen  had 
resigned  her  position  as  teacher,  and  was  busily 
preparing  for  her  early  departure.  Upon  seeing 
Yorke,  Loys  would  have  withdrawn. 

"  Don't  go,"  cried  Helen,  interrupting  her 
breathing  exercises.  "We  were  just  finishing." 

"  I  shall  detain  you  only  a  moment.  I  saw 
this  in  the  White  House  this  morning,  and  I 
think  it  is  what  you  want  for  your  travelling- 
gown,"  Loys  continued,  showing  Helen  a  sample 
of  dress  goods.  "  It  is  like  the  Mongolian 
conscience,  having  neither  right  nor  wrong 
side." 

"  It  is  exactly  what  I  had  in  mind.  If  you 
are  going  into  town,  will  you  order  it  sent  to 
Mrs.  Austen's  for  me?" 


A    HOUSE   OF   CARDS.  173 

"  Yes.  Pardon  my  interruption.  Good  after- 
noon, Mr.  Yorke." 

She  failed  to  extend  her  hand,  and  the 
omission  hurt  him. 

"  May  I  go  with  you  as  far  as  our  roads  lie 
together?  "  he  asked. 

"  I  shall  be  glad  to  have  you.  I  am  going 
to  take  the  California  Street  cars,"  she  pursued, 
on  leaving  the  house.  "  Gregory  promised  to 
take  me  into  Chinatown  if  he  could  contrive  it, 
and  if  not,  to  send  one  of  the  clerks  with  me." 

"Would  I  do  as  a  substitute?  "  asked  Yorke. 

At  sight  of  her,  all  his  brave  resolutions  had 
weakened.  He  had  been  so  unbendingly  severe 
to  himself  that  he  believed  he  deserved  some 
indulgence. 

"  Are  you  sure  you  wish  to  come?  " 

"  I  was  never  so  sure  of  anything,"  he  assured 
her. 

"  I  wish  to  get  a  few  ornaments  for  Helen's 
rooms  in  Paris.  If  some  of  the  articles  belong 
to  her,  it  will  give  the  apartment  a  home-like 
air,  and  I  know  there  is  more  than  one  hour  of 
homesickness  in  store  for  her.  " 

They  passed  some  of  the  finest  residences  in 
San  Francisco,  many  of  which  were  now  closed, 
their  owners  having  gone  away  to  spend  their 
money  in  other  places. 


174  A   HOUSE   OF   CARDS. 

"  I  suppose  you  have  done  this  part  of  the 
city  thoroughly,"  Yorke  remarked,  as  they 
entered  Chinatown.  "  I  know  Penelope  is 
fond  of  engineering  her  friends  through  here." 

"  I  once  went  with  a  party  of  hers,  but  they 
had  to  take  me  home.  The  odors  suffocated 
me.  I  have  been  in  the  restaurants  and  the 
shops,  but  I  really  do  not  care  to  explore 
further." 

A  band  of  chattering  Mongolians  passed 
them  on  the  narrow  sidewalk,  and  turned  to 
stare  at  Loys.  She  slipped  her  hand  within 
Yorke's  arm,  pressing  against  him. 

"  I  really  believe  you  are  afraid,"  he  exclaimed. 

"  I  know  it  is  ridiculous,  but  I  cannot  over- 
come the  feeling.  I  suppose  you  heard  Mrs. 
Lidderdale  speak  of  the  Chinese  when  she  was 
here.  I  think  she  spent  the  greater  portion  of 
her  time  prowling  about  Chinatown,  and  she 
used  to  expand  over  their  beautiful  courteous- 
ness  and  their  low  salamings  (it  was  during  the 
week  of  their  New  Year  that  she  was  here) 
until  I  began  to  wonder  if  I  had  seen  the  same 
race  of  people  as  she." 

Loys's  purchases  were  very  modest  ones,  but 
they  were  not  necessarily  any  the  less  pretty. 

"  I  go  about  distributing  these  boxes  in  the 


A   HOUSE   OF   CARDS.  175 

same  magnificent  manner  that  the  Queen  does 
her  India  shawls,"  she  laughed,  as  she  chose 
a  glove -box  and  handkerchief-box  of  carved 
sandal-wood.  "Oh,  here  is  the  mate  to  my 
little  blue  vase  !  Evidently  no  one  has  had  the 
good  taste  to  choose  its  fellow.  Did  you  notice 
that  it  is  the  real  Sevres  blue?  How  much 
is  it?"  she  asked,  turning  to  the  fat,  oily 
proprietor. 

"  Tlee  dollar  hap." 

Loys  replaced  the  vase  on  the  counter. 
"  No,  indeed,"  she  said,  decidedly.  "  I  paid 
only  two  dollars  and  twenty-five  cents  for  the 
other  one." 

"You  pay  only  two  dollar  qlawter  for  him? " 
leered  the  man,  incredulously.  "I  gib  you 
this  one  for  tlee  dollar." 

"  We  will  take  it  for  two  dollars  twenty-five, 
and  not  one  cent  more,"  put  in  Yorke. 

His  tone  awed  the  Chinaman  into  putting 
the  vase  beside  Loys's  other  purchases.  He 
did  it  grudgingly,  however. 

Loys  added  to  the  little  pile  of  ornaments  a 
dainty  piece  of  cloisonne  and  a  carved  ivory 
paper-knife,  Yorke  conducting  the  haggling  for 
her.  No  self-respecting  Chinaman  ever  dreams 
of  mentioning  at  once  the  price  he  really  ex- 
pects to  receive. 


i;6  A   HOUSE  OF   CARDS. 

"May  I  add  a  little  gift?"  Yorke  appealed. 
"  Something  which  can  go  in  your  package, 
and  only  be  discovered  when  Miss  Sargent  is 
there?" 

"  Yes,  I  think  you  may ;  but  it  must  be  some- 
thing very  small." 

He  obeyed  her  command  to  the  letter.  It 
was  a  very  small  piece  of  Satsuma  he  selected, 
but  Loys  could  not  avoid  seeing  the  price  he 
paid  for  it.  She  made  no  demur,  however, 
knowing  the  amount  was  no  more  to  him  than 
the  small  sum  she  had  expended  was  to  her. 

They  retraced  their  steps  through  the  crowded 
streets,  and  Loys  was  glad  to  reach  air  which 
was  not  vitiated  by  the  dying  fragrance  of 
decaying  fish  and  vegetables. 

"I  am  going  to  have  this  afternoon  to  my- 
self," affirmed  Yorke  to  himself,  as  they  neared 
the  library.  "  It  is  a  cowardly  indulgence,  but 
I  am  harming  only  myself.  I  am  no  more  to 
her  than  any  other  of  Kendall's  friends." 

Loys  ran  lightly  up  the  first  flight  of  stairs 
leading  to  the  library,  then  paused  at  the 
landing. 

"  I  do  not  know  what  is  the  matter  with  me," 
she  protested,  laboredly.  "  I  shall  have  to  go 
up  the  next  flight  more  slowly." 


A   HOUSE   OF   CARDS.  177 

"It  is  too  warm  for  you  here,"  urged  Yorke, 
as  they  entered  the  library  proper. 

She  was  glad  to  follow  him  into  the  reference 
room.  They  were  quite  alone,  and  sat  looking 
out  of  the  window,  exchanging  malicious  re- 
marks upon  the  passers-by,  each  with  a  proper 
enjoyment  of  the  other's  wit. 

"There  goes  Bradbury  up  to  the  club," 
exclaimed  Yorke,  as  he  espied  a  friend.  "  Does 
he  not  look  the  typical  man  who  lives  in  the 
suburbs,  who  cultivates  a  bit  of  green  and  a 
large  family?  He  goes  home  at  night,  a  news- 
paper package  under  each  arm,  to  read  his 
favorite  political  organ,  while  his  wife  placidly 
sits  beside  him,  darning,  and  his  numerous 
progeny  perform  their  school  tasks." 

"That  is  not  impromptu.  You  recite  it 
much  too  glibly.  I  am  sure  it  must  have  been 
embodied  in  some  sketch  of  yours,"  Loys 
mocked. 

"  But  instead  of  following  my  description, 
Bradbury  is  vulgarly  rich,  and  unmarried," 
Yorke  smiled. 

Loys  looked   about   the  room   meditatively. 

"  There  was  a  time  when  I  knew  those  shelves 

much  more  intimately  than  I  now  do.     I  used 

to  pore  over  those  dust-stained  volumes  until 

12 


178  A    HOUSE   OF    CARDS. 

my  head  ached,  so  as  to  be  armed  for  the  girls' 
questions.  Some  of  them  used  to  make  it  a 
point  to  hunt  up  the  most  terrifying  questions, 
simply  for  the  pleasure  of  confusing  me.  But 
it  did  not  do  to  betray  ignorance  too  often,  nor 
to  say  that  I  was  not  an  encyclopedia.  And 
the  quotations  from  Darwin  and  Spencer  and 
the  rest  of  them  that  I  knew,  —  no  girl  ever 
thought  her  essay  complete  without  a  few  lines 
from  one  of  them,  although  she  would  have 
been  virtuously  shocked  had  she  read  their  com- 
plete rejection  of  her  most  hallowed  beliefs." 

"What  an  appalling  piece  of  work  it  must 
have  been  for  you  to  write  those  essays,"  Yorke 
observed,  innocently. 

"  Did  I  say  I  wrote  them  ?  If  you  had  ever 
heard  a  school-girl's  essay  you  would  not  accuse 
me  so  fearlessly,"  she  concluded,  as  she  arose, 
and  they  searched  among  the  books.  "  I  have 
been  having  too  many  solids  lately;  I  must 
have  a  novel  this  time." 

"  Let  me  select  something  for  you." 

"  Will  you  ?  But  let  it  be  something  a  man 
will  also  enjoy.  Gregory  likes  to  have  me  read 
to  him." 

There  was  a  pause  before  Yorke  spoke. 
"What  kind  of  a  novel  is  a  man's  novel?" 


A    HOUSE   OF   CARDS.  179 

"  I  cannot  describe  the  kind,  although  I  am 
familiar  with  several.  Take,  for  instance,  '  The 
Sinner's  Comedy.'  I  never  recommended  that 
book  to  a  man  who  did  not  enjoy  it." 

"You  are  right,"  agreed  Yorke.  "It  is  a 
man's  novel." 

Upon  leaving  the  library,  he  said,  "  Will  you 
go  with  me  to  get  some  marshmallows  for  the 
Underhill  children?" 

She  could  not  well  refuse,  and  he  ordered 
also  two  boxes  of  marrons. 

As  he  stood  with  her  at  her  own  door,  he 
handed  her  one  of  them,  saying :  "  Here  is 
something  for  the  heart-shaped  dish." 

She  stood  above  him  on  the  step,  and,  so 
standing,  her  eyes  were  on  a  level  with  his. 

"That  little  dish  is  no  more,  but  the  same 
rules  govern  its  successor :  only  those  who  help 
empty  it  are  allowed  to  fill  it,"  she  affirmed. 
There  was  a  half-smile  in  her  eyes,  but  there 
was  also  a  touch  of  wounded  pride,  and  at 
sight  of  it  Yorke's  pulses  leaped. 

"  I  shall  expect  you  to  save  me  some  for  Fri- 
day evening,"  he  replied,  alluding  to  the  dinner- 
party she  was  to  give  on  that  night  in  honor  of 
Helen  Sargent,  and  to  which  he  had  been 
invited. 


l8o  A   HOUSE   OF   CARDS. 

She  hesitatingly  extended  her  hand  for  the 
box. 

"  If  I  told  you  how  much  we  missed  you,  I 
think  I  might  persuade  you  to  give  us  one  of 
our  old-time  evenings." 

As  her  words  repeated  themselves  to  her, 
she  reflected  that  the  speech  could  have  been 
made  only  by  a  married  woman.  She  was 
surprised  at  her  own  insistence ;  she  could 
not  recall  ever  before  having  asked  a  man  to 
call  after  he  had  once  flagged  in  his  attentions. 

"  Have  you  missed  me  ?  "  he  asked.  Un- 
consciously he  lowered  his  voice. 

With  an  effort  she  averted  her  eyes.  At 
that  moment,  Kendall  jumped  from  a  passing 
car,  and  joined  them. 

"  I  see  you  must  have  been  acting  as  my 
wife's  escort,  Yorke,"  he  said.  "  Did  she  buy 
all  the  pottery  in  Chinatown?  Come  in,  old 
fellow,  to  dine  with  us." 

"Thank  you.  I  am  due  this  evening  at 
Whiting's.  By  the  way,  Mrs.  Kendall,  will  you 
chaperon  a  little  dinner  I  wish  to  give  Miss 
Sargent,  at  the  club?" 

"  Of  course  she  will,"  interposed  Kendall. 
"  She  is  only  too  anxious  to  dine  away  from 
home.  You  know  we  sometimes  go  off  on  a 


A   HOUSE  OF   CARDS.  l8l 

tour  of  the  restaurants.  You  have  a  real  fond- 
ness for  a  'bat,'  haven't  you?"  he  demanded 
playfully,  appealing  to  Loys. 

"  What  a  word  !  "  she  reproved.  "  You  must 
not  unmask  me  before  Mr.  Yorke.  Had  I 
known  you  intended  to  sacrifice  my  good  name 
to  your  boast,  I  should  have  chosen  a  more 
discreet  companion." 

Her  face  had  suddenly  assumed  a  look  of 
utter  weariness,  although  her  eyes  burned  with 
unnatural  brilliancy,  and  her  lips  were  a  thread 
of  scarlet. 

"  Well,  Yorke,  when  are  we  to  have  you  drop 
in  upon  us  in  your  old-time  fashion?"  Kendall 
urged.  "  Mrs.  Kendall  insists  that  it  is  a  wound 
to  her  pride,  but  that  you  must  have  grown 
weary  of  us.  Here,  Loys,  add  your  entreaties 
to  mine." 

Yorke  listened  for  her  words  with  almost 
painful  impatience. 

"  Why,"  she  said,  with  an  irrelevant,  excited 
laugh,  "  why  do  you  wish  me  to  try  my  meagre 
suasive  powers  if  yours  have  failed?  " 

Her  laugh  jarred  on  her  ears.  How  many 
times  that  afternoon  she  had  laughed,  —  enough 
for  a  whole  lifetime.  How  thoughtlessly  gay 
she  had  been  !  She  wondered  if  Yorke  intended 
to  keep  them  before  the  door  all  night. 


182  A    HOUSE   OF   CARDS. 

"  Do  you  know,"  Kendall  commenced,  when 
they  were  alone,  "you  can  be  freezingly  cold 
at  times.  Why  did  you  not  ask  him  to  call, 
informally?  " 

"Did  I  not?"  she  queried.  "He  is  coming 
Friday  evening."  She  sat  down  in  the  hall, 
loosening  her  sealskin  with  nervous  haste,  as  if 
it  had  grown  too  heavy  for  her. 

"  Have  you  heard  that  the  Geralds'  troubles 
have  finally  culminated  in  a  divorce  suit?" 
gossiped  Kendall.  "I  am  sorry  for  Gerald. 
What  a  fool  that  woman  was  not  to  be  satisfied 
with  a  good  man's  love  !  " 

"She  was  more  than  a  fool.  You  cannot 
blame  the  frog  who  leaped  from  a  throne  of 
gold  into  the  puddle,  but  a  woman  !  —  " 

"What  has  occasioned  this  sudden  change 
of  front?  I  thought  you  always  said  that  our 
vaunted  virtue  lies  in  not  being  tempted,  and 
that  you  urged  a  beautiful  leniency  —  " 

"Not  towards  a  married  woman,"  she  in- 
terrupted. "  A  married  woman  cannot  continue 
to  drift  on  blindly.  There  must  come  the 
awakening,  and  then  she  must  prove  herself 
brave  and  strong  enough  to  trample  the  love 
under  foot." 

"Your  views  satisfy  me.     One  can  see  you 


A  HOUSE   OF   CARDS.  183 

have  never  loved  any  man  but  your  husband. 
Your  words  sound  very  fine  in  theory.  My 
dear  child,  we  will  suppose  that  I  had  no  right 
to  love  you  —  do  you  imagine  that  because  I 
had  not  the  moral  right,  I  could  the  more  easily 
conquer  my  love?  " 

His  words  did  not  seem  to  reach  her. 

"Are  you  going  to  sit  there  all  night?" 
he  pursued. 

"  Do  you  know  whose  lines  these  are  ?  — 

"  '  As  one  that  on  a  lonesome  road 
Doth  walk  in  fear  and  dread, 

And,  having  once  turned  round,  walks  on 
And  turns  no  more  his  head, 

Because  he  knows  a  frightful  fiend 
Doth  close  behind  him  tread.' " 

"What  made  you  imagine  I  would  know?  I 
never  read  a  line  of  poetry  unless  you  insist 
upon  it.  Ask  Yorke  on  Friday  evening,  if  you 
are  curious  to  know." 


Chapter  XV. 


[JOYS  stood  in  the  hall,  waiting  until  Ken- 
dall should  draw  on  his  gloves,  for 
she  was  going  into  town  with  him.  As  she 
waited,  she  recognized  the  postman's  ring,  and 
opened  the  door.  There  was  only  one  letter 
for  her.  It  was  from  her  mother. 

"  I  am  so  glad,"  she  cried.  "  Mother  is 
coming  to  the  city  this  afternoon,  and  is  going 
to  spend  a  week  with  us." 

Kendall  studied  with  interest  the  name  of 
his  hatter  on  the  lining  of  his  hat. 

"  Why  don't  you  wire  her  to  wait  until  to- 
morrow? "  he  proposed,  in  a  strained  voice. 
"  You  must  see  that  it  would  be  rather  incon- 
venient to  have  her  here  to-night." 

Her  features  stiffened  as  she  measured  him 
with  eyes  which  caused  him  to  feel  that  he  had 
lost  several  inches  in  height. 

"  Why  inconvenient?"she  demanded,  haughtily. 

"  You  said  the  dining-room  here  would 
accommodate  only  fourteen,  and  that  you  in- 


A   HOUSE   OF   CARDS.  185 

tended  to  have  only  those  who  would  be  most 
useful  to  Helen  in  the  years  to  come,"  he  ex- 
plained, haltingly.  "  Besides,  your  mother  will 
not  be  at  her  ease  among  the  people  who  are 
coming." 

"  I  think  she  will,"  she  maintained.  "  I 
should  not  dream  of  subjecting  my  father  to 
such  an  evening.  The  hours  would  seem  in- 
terminable to  him,  the  gowns  of  the  women 
indecent,  and  their  talk  vapid.  But  mother 
will  enjoy  it  all,  and  look  back  upon  the  even- 
ing as  a  treat.  The  dining-room  will  be  some- 
what crowded,  but  it  cannot  be  avoided.  Do 
not  wait  for  me.  I  am  going  to  send  a  note  to 
Mr.  Van  Arsdale,  explaining  our  need  of  him. 
He  will  come  to  our  assistance." 

Kendall  muttered  something  between  his 
teeth  and  slammed  the  house  door  after  him. 

"  How  dared  he  ! "  Loys  breathed  in  passion- 
ate contempt. 

But  there  was  no  time  that  morning  to  give 
vent  to  her  feelings.  She  despatched  the  note 
to  Van  Arsdale,  then  went  to  her  florist. 

When  she  reached  home,  she  found  Van 
Arsdale's  reply  awaiting  her.  He  wrote  that 
he  was  more  than  pleased  that  she  could  not  do 
without  him,  for  within  the  last  two  days  he  had 


l86  A   HOUSE   OF   CARDS. 

regretted  having  said  she  might  omit  him.  He 
was  possessed  of  a  devouring  desire  to  be 
present  at  the  dinner. 

"He  does  know  how  to  confer  a  favor,"  she 
murmured. 

At  one  o'clock  the  flowers  arrived,  and  Penel- 
ope Browning,  who  had  a  more  than  amateurish 
talent  for  arranging  them,  came  over  to  assist 
Loys  set  the  table. 

When  the  last  flower  was  arranged,  the  last 
menu-card  placed,  and  they  stepped  back  to 
mark  the  effect,  Penelope  and  Loys  confessed 
themselves  satisfied  with  the  result  of  their 
efforts. 

At  four  o'clock  Loys  went  to  meet  her 
mother.  Penelope,  who  had  remained  during 
Loys's  absence,  disembarrassed  Mrs.  Yerrington 
of  her  wraps. 

"  Are  you  going  to  show  your  mother  the 
table  now  ?  "  she  inquired. 

"  Yes.  You  know,  mother  dear,  I  wrote  you 
about  Helen  Sargent's  going  to  Paris,  and  to- 
night we  are  giving  her  a  little  dinner." 

"  I  wish  I  'd  waited  until  the  morning,"  mur- 
mured Mrs.  Yerrington. 

"  You  will  not  to-morrow,"  prophesied  Pe- 
nelope. "  You  are  going  to  enjoy  a  delightful 
evening." 


A   HOUSE  OF  CARDS.  187 

Loys  opened  the  dining-room  door,  and  Mrs. 
Yerrington  stood  looking  about  her  with  be- 
wildered eyes. 

"  Why,  it 's  fairy-land  !  "  she  exclaimed,  after 
a  pause.  "  O  Loys,  I  wish  I  had  n't  come 
to-day  !  " 

"  I  wish  I  had  time  to  scold  you,  but  I  must 
run  away,  for  I  have  a  letter  to  write  before 
dressing,"  Penelope  remarked. 

Loys  accompanied  Penelope  to  the  door, 
to  thank  her  for  what  she  had  done.  When 
she  returned  to  the  room,  her  mother  said : 
"  No  one  knows  I  am  here,  and  I  '11  have  a 
bite  in  my  own  room  and  listen  to  the  music 
from  there.  I  could  n't  be  comfortable  here, 
dear.  I  wouldn't  know  what  to  do  with  all 
these  forks  and  glasses  and  things." 

"  In  a  moment  you  will.  Now,  listen." 
Loys  explained  the  use  of  each  article,  and, 
when  she  had  finished,  Mrs.  Yerrington  repeated 
her  words.  She  perceived  that  Loys  would  not 
permit  her  to  remain  upstairs,  and  she  was 
intent  upon  doing  her  best. 

"  Do  not  trouble  about  anything,"  advised 
Loys.  "  You  are  going  in  to  dinner  with  Mr. 
Yorke,  and  Mr.  Van  Arsdale  will  sit  on  the 
other  side  of  you,  and  Penelope  next  to 


1 88  A   HOUSE   OF   CARDS. 

him,  so  you  will  be  surrounded  by  those  you 
know." 

From  the  night  of  the  fire  Loys  had  been 
forced  to  have  her  hair  dressed,  for  her  arm 
was  in  a  measure  disabled.  The  woman  came 
twice  that  day,  and  Loys  stood  over  her  as  she 
arranged  Mrs.  Yerrington's  still  luxuriant  hair. 

Mrs.  Yerrington  started  back  in  naive  aston- 
ishment when  Loys  at  length  allowed  her  to 
look  in  the  glass.  The  lustreless  black  silk 
she  wore  had  been  made  only  a  few  weeks 
previous,  under  Loys's  supervision,  and  Mrs. 
Yerrington  had  worn  it  only  once  ;  but  on  that 
occasion  she  had  dressed  her  hair  in  an  un- 
compromisingly hard  knot,  and  a  bunch  of 
violets  had  not  been  fastened  at  her  breast  by 
Loys's  cunning  hands. 

"What  have  you  done  to  me?" 

"  I  merely  touched  you  with  my  wand.  You 
did  not  know  how  pretty  you  were,  did  you  ?  " 
queried  Loys,  mischievously,  shaking  out  a 
handkerchief  of  cobweb  fineness  for  her. 

From  the  moment  that  Mrs.  Yerrington  no- 
ticed the  change  in  her  appearance,  she  grew 
more  assured. 

Kendall  reached  home  as  Loys  was  putting 
the  last  touch  to  her  toilet.  She  heard  him  on 


A   HOUSE   OF   CARDS.  189 

the  steps,  and  awaited  his  coming  in  trepida- 
tion, for  she  did  not  know  how  he  would  bear 
himself. 

He  entered  the  room,  affecting  a  boyish  gayety 
at  sight  of  Mrs.  Yerrington,  with  whom  he  was 
a  great  favorite.  When  he  turned  to  greet 
Loys,  there  was  a  look  of  pleading  in  his  eyes 
to  which  she  could  not  remain  cold.  What- 
ever else  he  was,  he  was  her  husband;  she 
could  not  reject  his  overtures  for  peace. 

As  he  bent  to  kiss  her,  he  whispered  :  "  Do 
you  forgive  me?  You  do  not  know  how 
wretched  I  have  been  on  account  of  what 
happened." 

She  made  no  attempt  to  escape  from  his 
arms,  and  his  face  brightened.  The  instant  he 
found  he  was  forgiven,  he  forgave  himself. 

"  I  have  brought  you  something  to  wear 
around  your  neck,"  he  proceeded,  reddening  as 
he  took  from  his  pocket  a  jeweler's  box. 

Her  features  threatened  to  stiffen  again  as  he 
showed  her  a  string  of  pearls.  She  recoiled 
from  the  thought  that  he  had  attempted  to 
bribe  her  into  forgiveness.  She  made  an 
attempt  to  receive  the  gift  graciously,  but  her 
failure  was  covered  by  her  mother's  exclama- 
tions of  admiration. 


190  A    HOUSE   OF    CARDS. 

"  I  know  you  always  said  you  did  not  wish  3. 
necklace ;  but  this  is  such  a  simple  affair  that  it 
will  not  hide  your  throat,"  observed  Kendall,  as 
he  clasped  the  pearls  about  her  neck,  with  a  kiss. 

As  he  went  to  his  dressing-room,  Mrs.  Yer- 
rington  said :  "  I  like  to  see  you  together. 
What  a  happy  wife  you  are  !  " 

"Am  I  not?"  Loys  echoed,  moving  the 
pearls  as  if  they  were  too  tight. 

They  went  to  the  drawing-room,  where  Ken- 
dall soon  joined  them.  Loys  had  taken  a  last 
look  into  the  kitchen  and  at  the  table,  and 
awaited  the  guests  with  a  clear  conscience ; 
she  had  done  her  best  for  their  welfare. 

There  was  no  dilatory  one  that  night.  They 
were  all  well-known  to  one  another,  and  even 
before  taking  their  places  at  the  table  there 
was  no  lack  of  merry  talk. 

From  her  seat  Loys  could  see  Kendall  in- 
tently watching  her  mother,  consequently  she 
became  painfully  alive  to  her  every  movement. 
Fortunately,  Mr.  Whiting,  who  sat  at  Loys's 
right,  spoke  with  the  skill  of  the  professional 
talker,  and  his  pungent  wit  concealed  the  fact 
that  she  was  doing  her  best  to  be  stupid.  It 
was  a  wit  which  was  appreciated  none  the  less 
because  it  stopped  at  nothing.  If  Mr.  Whiting's 


A   HOUSE   OF    CARDS.  Ipl 

auditors  were  sometimes  haunted  by  the  reflec- 
tion that  it  was  unkind  to  laugh  at  his  unspar- 
ing remarks  on  their  friends,  they  speedily  re- 
doubled their  laughter,  spurred  on  by  the 
thought  that  they,  in  their  turn,  would  serve 
him  as  food  for  his  reputation  of  splendid 
daring. 

After  a  little,  Loys  perceived  that  Yorke  was 
careful,  at  the  beginning  of  each  course,  to  give 
Mrs.  Yerrington  her  queue,  in  an  unostentatious 
manner.  They  were  chatting  naturally,  —  Yorke 
rather  more  talkative  than  was  his  wont,  but 
drawing  more  than  monosyllabic  replies  from 
his  companion.  Penelope  and  Van  Arsdale 
also  joined  in  their  conversation  at  times.  They 
seemed  to  be  having  a  very  merry  time,  as  they 
all  did. 

With  a  lighter  heart  Loys  turned  to  Mr. 
Whiting,  rewarding  his  efforts  with  smiles  which 
bore  no  traces  of  the  pain  she  was  bearing ;  for 
she  could  not  shut  out  from  her  sight  Kendall's 
implacable  eyes  upon  her  mother,  and  Yorke's 
thoughtfulness. 

The  dinner  was  quoted  afterward  as  having 
been  one  of  the  most  brilliant  of  the  season ; 
but  no  particular  credit  could  be  attributed  to 
Loys  because  of  this.  She  had,  as  usual,  gath- 


192  A  HOUSE  OF   CARDS. 

ered  about  her  a  group  of  people  quite  capable 
of  providing  their  own  entertainment.  Unless 
there  were  some  good  reason  for  it,  she  re- 
frained from  inviting  people  who  expected  to 
be  amused.  Naturally,  she  preferred  the  man 
who  expects  to  amuse. 

Penelope  Browning  had  assured  her  that  she 
had  made  the  mistake  of  inviting  people  who 
could  talk  but  not  listen ;  but  that  night  Loys 
found  no  fault  with  them  on  that  account. 

She  toyed  with  her  food,  but  could  hardly 
force  herself  to  swallow  a  mouthful.  No  one 
else  appeared  to  think  the  room  warm,  yet  she 
found  it  stifling,  and  the  pearls  about  her  neck 
seemed  to  be  suffocating  her. 

As  it  was  nearing  the  time  for  the  women  to 
leave  the  dining-room,  Mr.  Whiting  said  to  her : 
"  I  wish  you  would  inaugurate  the  sensible  plan 
of  remaining  with  us  while  we  smoke  a  cigar. 
You  know  it  is  only  incense  burned  to  you." 

She  wondered  how  many  times  the  remark 
had  served. 

"  Come,"  he  continued,  "if  you  are  wise  you 
will  drop  the  foolish  custom  to-night." 

The  lights  and  flowers  were  dancing  before 
her  eyes ;  she  was  only  too  glad  to  escape  from 
the  room. 


A   HOUSE  OF   CARDS.  193 

"I  make  no  pretensions  to  being  wise,  —  I 
could  not  live  up  to  them,"  she  averred,  with  a 
smile  which  would  have  reconciled  any  man  to 
her  unmitigated  stupidity.  She  arose  as  she 
spoke  and  marshalled  her  troops  from  the 
field. 

The  coolness  of  the  drawing-room  revived 
her;  but  when  the  men  rejoined  them,  the  air 
soon  became  heated. 

Loys  was  standing  near  the  door  as  Helen 
arose  to  sing.  The  girl  was  looking  trium- 
phantly beautiful  ;  but  from  her  eager  way 
of  observing  Yorke,  Loys  could  not  help 
feeling  relieved  that  she  was  so  soon  to  de- 
part. 

The  lights  suddenly  began  to  waver  and  grow 
dim  to  Loys;  and  as  the  first  note  broke  on 
the  air,  it  seemed  to  come  from  a  great  dis- 
tance. She  made  a  few  uncertain  steps  into 
the  hall,  endeavoring  to  reach  a  divan  she 
remembered  they  had  placed  under  the  stairs ; 
but  the  more  she  tried,  the  further  it  receded 
from  her.  Then  she  felt  herself  carried  to 
the  lounge  and  some  one  chafing  her  hands. 
She  knew  it  was  Yorke,  but  could  not  open 
her  eyes. 

"  Loys,"  he  whispered,  in  unguarded  tones, 


194  A    HOUSE   OF   CARDS. 

leaning  over  her  in  fright,  "  Loys,  do  you  hear 
me?" 

She  felt  she  could  now  speak  if  she  made 
the  effort,  but  she  made  none.  After  all,  what 
were  two  minutes  in  a  whole  life-time?  No 
one  should  rob  her  of  them.  She  would  banish 
the  thought  of  Gregory  from  her  thoughts  for 
those  poor  seconds ;  she  would  — 

Even  as  she  was  determining  what  she  would 
do,  she  opened  her  eyes  and  sat  up. 

"  It  was  so  warm,"  she  faltered. 

"Shall  I  call  your  mother  or  Ken  —  " 

"  No  one  is  to  know,"  she  broke  in.  "  Prob- 
ably they  have  not  missed  us." 

Yorke  made  no  movement  to  help  her  rise. 
The  muscles  of  his  face  were  tense  and  rigid. 

"  You  have  done  too  much  to-day,"  he  said. 
"  You  must  not  tax  your  —  " 

"  I  did  nothing,"  she  protested.  "  It  was 
only  the  heat." 

Van  Arsdale  was  the  only  one  who  had  re- 
marked their  absence.  He  regarded  Loys 
curiously.  He  never  remembered  her  being 
so  fitfully  gay  as  she  was  that  night.  Usually 
she  was  content  to  make  others  shine ;  but 
during  the  remainder  of  the  evening  her  con- 
versation was  spangled  with  wit.  With  reck- 


A   HOUSE   OF   CARDS.  195 

less  prodigality  she  scattered  her  caustic  bons 
mots  into  every  quarter  until  Kendall  realized 
the  extent  of  her  nervous  exhaustion ;  for  it  was 
only  when  Loys  was  thoroughly  overwrought 
that  she  was  so  madly  gay. 

No  one  seemed  inclined  to  leave,  but  Yorke 
finally  contrived  to  break  up  the  gathering. 

Kendall  waited  until  Mrs.  Yerrington  had 
gone  upstairs  before  speaking  to  Loys.  By  a 
deft  touch  here  and  there,  she  was  bringing 
order  out  of  the  chaos  which  reigned. 

"  Stop,"  he  ordered,  as  she  was  about  to 
wheel  a  divan  into  place.  "  Jane  will  have 
time  enough  to  arrange  the  rooms  in  the 
morning.  You  have  done  far  too  much  as  it 
is." 

"  I  realized  the  dinner  was  a  success  when 
Mr.  Whiting  quoted,  '  Avec  une  pareille  sauce, 
on  mangerait  son  pere ;  '  but  was  it  a  pleasant 
evening?  I  never  can  determine  in  our  own 
house.  Were  you  pleased?  " 

"More  than  pleased.  There  was  not  a 
moment's  tedium.  But  you  are  not  feeling 
well,"  he  said,  anxiously.  "  What  is  it,  my 
wife?" 

"  Put  out  the  lights ;  they  make  the  air  so 
warm." 


196  A   HOUSE   OF   CARDS. 

As  she  listlessly  watched  him  fan  out  the  last 
glimmer  from  the  lamps,  she  came  to  a  sudden 
determination. 

"  Do  not  snuff  out  the  candles  yet,"  she 
commanded.  "  I  must  tell  you  that  I  tried  to 
pose  as  a  heroine  to-night.  I  almost  lost  con- 
sciousness out  in  the  hall,  and  Mr.  Yorke  had 
to  carry  me  to  the  divan." 

Kendall  reached  her  side  quickly,  and,  sitting 
down,  drew  her  to  his  knee. 

"  It  was  my  dam —  ugly  temper  of  this  morn- 
ing that  caused  it,  and  I  let  you  do  too  much. 
Tell  me  where  the  pain  is.  Were  you  uncon- 
scious long?  "  he  asked,  placing  his  hand  above 
her  heart. 

"  Not  more  than  a  minute.  I  felt  that  I  was 
falling  through  bottomless  space  ;  I  suppose  my 
heart  must  have  lost  a  beat.  Oh,  foolish  one, 
you  have  grown  quite  pale.  Then  you  do  not 
wish  me  to  die  just  yet?  " 

"Die?"  he  echoed,  with  trembling  lips. 
"  I  forbid  you  to  say  that  word.  Have  you 
no  idea  how  it  pains  me  to  hear  it  in  connec- 
tion with  you?  To  live  without  you,  my  be- 
loved —  "  He  hid  his  face  upon  her  bosom, 
endeavoring  to  regain  command  of  himself. 

"  Have    I  ever  given  you  cause   to  regret 


A   HOUSE   OF   CARDS.  197 

having  married  me?"  she  demanded,  in  wist- 
ful persistence. 

As  he  took  her  in  his  arms  to  carry  her  up  the 
staircase,  he  answered  by  a  laugh,  which  con- 
tented her. 

"  And  I  never  shall,"  she  added,  vehemently. 


Chapter  XVI. 


JHEY  had  accompanied  Helen  Sargent 
across  the  bay,  and  seen  her  safely 
installed  in  the  flower-laden  drawing-room ;  so 
it  was  late  that  evening  when  Penelope  and 
Van  Arsdale,  Loys  and  Kendall  reached  home. 
The  gloom  of  the  parting  was  still  upon  them, 
and  they  were  inclined  to  be  somewhat  silent 
until  Van  Arsdale  asked  them  their  plans  for 
the  summer. 

"Except  for  an  occasional  run  down  to 
Monterey  over  Saturday  and  Sunday,  or  a  very 
impressive  invitation  to  spend  a  few  days  in 
some  friend's  cottage,"  answered  Kendall,  look- 
ing laughingly  at  Penelope,  "I  think  we  shall 
stay  quietly  at  home." 

"  In  the  good  old  times  I  believe  people 
went  to  the  country  to  wear  out  their  old 
clothes,"  remarked  Penelope.  "I  wish  those 
days  would  return.  How  can  men  believe  that 
women  dress  for  them,  seeing  the  gowns  we 
need  for  the  sea-shore,  where,  as  every  one 


A    HOUSE   OF   CARDS.  IQ9 

knows,  men  are  as  plentiful  as  flies  about  honey. 
I  suppose  we  shall  have  to  seek  consolation  in 
the  thought  that,  as  the  little  boy  said  in  his 
composition,  the  good  Lord  liked  Eve  so  much 
better  than  he  did  Adam,  there  have  been  more 
of  her  sex  ever  since.  What  are  you  going  to 
do,  Riker?" 

"  The  Yorkes  have  asked  me  to  spend  a  few 
weeks  at  their  place  in  San  Rafael." 

"  Yorke  is  variable,"  observed  Kendall. 
"  He  has  not  been  near  us  since  he  paid  his 
call  of  digestion." 

"  He  has  been  down  at  his  ranch  the  past 
week,"  reminded  Penelope.  "  I  must  go  home 
in  a  few  moments,  for  he  is  coming  to-night. 
The  air  is  deliciously  soft.  Will  you  go  to  the 
Cliff  if  I  order  the  horses?" 

"  I  am  too  tired  to-night,"  said  Loys. 

At  that  moment  the  maid  handed  Kendall  a 
telegram.  Murmuring  a  word  of  pardon,  he 
tore  open  the  envelop.  He  read  the  message 
at  a  glance,  then  sat  staring  blindly  down  at 
the  words.  In  an  instant  his  face  had  become 
haggard. 

Loys  quickly  left  her  seat  and  walked  round 
to  him.  He  remained  passive  as  she  read  the 
dispatch  :  — 


200  A   HOUSE   OF    CARDS. 

"  Come  immediately.  There  is  no  hope. 
Your  mother  has  regained  her  reason  and 
wishes  to  see  you." 

It  was  signed  "  Robert  Kendall  "  —  the  name 
of  Kendall's  father. 

"Your  mother?"  Loys  echoed.  "Why, 
Gregory,"  she  went  on,  placing  her  hand  upon 
his  shoulder,  "  some  one  is  trying  to  play  a 
sorry  jest  —  " 

The  expression  of  mingled  misery  and  plead- 
ing in  his  eyes  killed  the  words  on  her  lips. 
She  looked  at  Van  Arsdale,  mechanically  trac- 
ing a  pattern  on  the  table,  at  Penelope  Brown- 
ing, who  had  risen,  pale  to  the  lips.  There 
came  to  her  a  shadowy  recognition  of  the  truth. 
Then  she  closed  her  eyes  for  a  second;  the 
overwhelming  light  blinded  her.  She  shrank 
from  the  unbounded  pity  shining  in  Penelope's 
face.  No  one  had  ever  dared  to  pity  her 
before.  She  would  have  no  one  pity  her  now. 

"  For  a  moment  I  forgot,"  she  murmured. 

Kendall  passed  the  telegram  to  Van  Arsdale, 
explaining,  "  My  father  must  have  gone  to 
Napa  this  morning,  —  perhaps  Dr.  Newell 
wired  for  him.  He  did  not  know  she  was 
ill." 

Van    Arsdale    looked   at    the   clock,  whose 


A  HOUSE  OF   CARDS.  2OI 

brazen  voice  was  plainly  audible  in  the  quiet 
room. 

"We  must  leave  the  house  within  ten  min- 
utes if  you  wish  to  make  the  next  train,"  he 
said. 

He  knew  there  would  be  time  in  half  an 
hour,  but  he  was  anxious  to  escape  from  Loys's 
presence. 

"  I  will  get  ready,"  Loys  began,  turning  from 
the  room. 

"  You  cannot  go,"  Kendall  broke  in.  "  There 
will  not  be  time,  and  it  is  better  I  should  go 
alone.  She  does  not  know  you." 

"  I  shall  get  your  dressing-bag,"  she  said. 

Penelope  could  not  keep  pace  with  her  on 
the  stairs.  Loys  gathered  together  such  arti- 
cles as  he  would  need,  Penelope  standing  by 
helplessly. 

"You  will  wire  me  the  first  thing  in  the 
morning,  Gregory,"  she  said,  calmly,  as  she  met 
him  in  the  hall ;  "  and  if  you  find  you  can  use 
me,  let  me  know." 

He  did  not  trust  himself  to  look  at  her  as  he 
touched  her  cheek.  He  tried  to  speak,  but  the 
words  failed  him,  and  he  abruptly  followed  Van 
Arsdale. 

Loys  continued  to  stand  at  the  open  door 
long  after  they  had  passed  out  of  sight. 


202  A    HOUSE   OF    CARDS. 

"  Come  in,  dear,"  directed  Penelope. 

"  You  left  your  wraps  in  the  sitting-room,  did 
you  not?  Let  me  get  them  for  you." 

"But  I  am  going  to  stay  with  you." 

"  No,  you  are  not ;  you  are  going  home 
now,"  Loys  declared,  impatiently.  She  hurried 
into  the  room  for  Penelope's  belongings. 

"  Let  me  stay  with  you.  Don't  send  me 
away  to-night,"  Penelope  entreated. 

"  I  know  how  much  you  would  like  to  be 
with  me,  but  I  wish  to  be  quite  by  myself." 

Loys  opened  the  door,  and  Penelope  could 
do  nothing  else  but  pass  out. 

"  I  will  not  annoy  you ;  I  will  not  even  ask 
to  sleep  with  you,  if  you  will  only  let  me  stay 
in  the  house." 

"  How  good  you  are  !  —  but  you  have  always 
been  good  to  me,  Pen.  There,  —  go  home." 

Loys  closed  the  door.  Penelope  listened 
vainly  for  some  sound  from  within,  but  after 
some  moments  of  waiting,  stole  noiselessly 
down  the  steps  and  home. 

Loys  had  sunk  down  upon  a  hall  chair. 
Her  thoughts  were  still  benumbed,  —  she  only 
knew  she  was  glad  to  be  alone.  She  wondered 
if  it  were  only  last  night  at  the  play  that  Pe- 
nelope and  she  had  laughed  as  the  leading 


A   HOUSE   OF   CARDS.  2O3 

lady  explained,  in  a  speech  of  five  minutes' 
duration,  her  desire  to  be  alone. 

Suddenly  there  flashed  upon  her  the  remem- 
brance of  that  afternoon  at  Mrs.  Wills,  the 
medium's.  Yes,  some  one  had  withheld  some- 
thing it  was  of  vital  importance  she  should 
have  known.  She  aimlessly  pleated  and  un- 
pleated  her  handkerchief.  It  occurred  to  her 
that  her  calm  was  unnatural :  if  she  had  read 
of  a  woman  acting,  as  she  was  acting  now, 
she  would  have  so  characterized  it.  But  of 
what  avail  would  tears  or  useless  rebellion  be 
now? 

She  lived  over  again  the  night  of  her  engage- 
ment. How  tired  she  had  been !  She  saw 
Kendall  as  he  sat  plucking  viciously  at  the 
tassel  of  the  chair,  and  combating  her  views 
on  her  sister's  marriage.  That  night,  too,  he 
had  had  in  his  pocket  the  letter  from  Penelope 
Browning,  containing  the  offer  to  her  of  the 
European  trip. 

Loys  shudderingly  reflected  that  Mrs.  Wills 
had  been  right :  she  had  gone  with  the  wrong 
one. 

And  Gregory's  hardly  concealed  joy  at  all  of 
his  intimate  friends  being  out  of  town,  and  his 
father's  coldness  in  London,  were  now  explained. 


204  A   HOUSE   OF   CARDS. 

Those  who  might  have  saved  her  had  been  away, 
or  had  thought  she  knew,  and  dared  not  speak. 
No  one  had  given  her  one  warning  whisper. 

His  father  had  known  what  Gregory  thought 
of  her,  —  why  had  he  not  told  her  ?  The 
answer  came  to  her  readily :  all  along  he  had 
believed,  with  her,  that  she  would  never  marry 
him. 

Loys  had  not  dared  to  question  Penelope ; 
but  she  knew  that  the  insanity  was  hereditary, 
else  it  would  not  have  been  so  completely  hid- 
den from  her,  and  they  would  not  all  have 
preserved  such  an  ominous  silence  when  she 
had  brought  forward  her  views  on  heredity. 

If  her  child  had  lived  • —  But  it  was  foolish 
to  try  to  exaggerate  her  troubles.  Mercifully, 
the  child  was  dead.  As  the  child  was  dead,  she 
could  forgive  Gregory.  She  was  the  only  one 
to  suffer,  and  nothing  much  mattered  as  only 
she  was  to  suffer. 

She  groped  her  way  to  the  stairs  and  slowly 
toiled  up  them.  Her  clothes  oppressed  her, 
and  with  trembling  fingers  she  unfastened  her 
dress,  and  slipped  into  a  white  woollen  tea- 
gown.  She  shuddered  as  her  fingers  came  in 
contact  with  her  body,  —  they  were  icy  cold, 
and  her  face  was  burning. 


A   HOUSE   OF   CARDS.  205 

"  I  shall  take  my  bath  now,  instead  of  later. 
It  will  warm  me,"  she  decided,  walking  to  the 
bath-room.  She  turned  on  the  water,  and 
stood  watching  it  as  it  welled  up  higher  and 
higher.  There  recurred  to  her  the  stories  she 
had  heard  of  death  by  drowning.  They  all 
agreed  that  it  was  a  pleasant  death.  The  tub 
was  more  than  three -fourths  full,  but  she  made 
no  movement  to  turn  off  the  water.  To  think 
that  by  merely  holding  one's  head  under  it  for 
a  few  — 

With  an  effort  she  tore  herself  away  from  its 
fascination,  and  ran  into  her  room.  The  maid 
was  there,  arranging  the  bed  for  the  night. 

"  Please  turn  off  the  water,  Jane.  After  all, 
I  shall  not  bathe  now." 

She  covered  her  eyes  with  her  hands,  draw- 
ing a  long,  quivering  breath.  She  cowered 
away  from  the  thought  which  had  been  with 
her  a  moment  before. 

The  house-bell  tingled. 

"  It  is  Penelope,"  she  thought.  "  Was  she 
afraid  of  this  that  she  was  so  insistent?  " 

It  was  not  Penelope's  voice  she  recognized  : 
it  was  Yorke's. 

Loys  restrained  an  unseasonable  desire  to 
laugh.  What  had  Penelope  feared,  that,  after 


206  A   HOUSE   OF   CARDS. 

her  rude  treatment,  she  had  not  ventured  to 
come  herself,  but  had  sent  Yorke?  In  another 
moment  her  anger  was  dissipated.  She  had 
no  right  to  deprive  Penelope  of  her  rest 
when  she  could  quiet  her  simply  by  receiving 
Yorke. 

She  descended  the  stairs.  One  glance  at 
his  face  convinced  her  that  he  knew. 

"  You  are  in  trouble,"  he  exclaimed,  stand- 
ing at  the  foot  of  the  stairs,  and  she  a  step  or 
two  above  him.  The  subdued  light  of  the 
lamp  above  her  clearly  marked  the  dark 
shadows  about  her  unquiet  eyes,  the  tense 
muscles  of  her  mouth. 

"  Yes  :  Gregory  received  a  telegram  from  his 
father  that  his  mother  is  dying,  but  conscious," 
she  explained.  "  It  would  have  been  more 
merciful,  I  think,  had  she  gone  without  re- 
covering her  reason.  She  has  not  seen  Gregory 
now  for,  for  —  " 

"  I  think  it  must  be  quite  ten  years,"  he 
supplied,  not  appearing  to  notice  her  hesitancy. 
"  The  sight  of  him  only  disturbed  her ;  and 
though  she  did  not  recognize  her  husband,  she 
was  glad  to  see  him." 

"Yes,  so  I  have  heard.  Of  course  we  did 
not  speak  often  upon  the  subject,  so  I  must 


A   HOUSE   OF   CARDS.  2OJ 

appear  very  ignorant ;  but  was  she  violent 
or  —  " 

"  Only  melancholy,"  put  in  Yorke,  quickly. 
"At  first  she  remembered  Mr.  Kendall  and 
Gregory  at  times,  but  during  the  past  fifteen 
years  she  has  known  no  one,"  he  went  on, 
thinking  it  wiser  that  she  should  know  the 
truth  instead  of  torturing  herself  by  her 
imaginings. 

"  I  wish,  oh,  I  wish  she  did  not  know  them 
now  !  "  she  whispered.  "  To  think  that  she 
should  recognize  them  only  now,  at  the  end, 
and  know  all  the  closed  years  behind  her.  It 
is  pitifully  sad  to  think  of,  is  it  not?"  she 
demanded,  dry-eyed. 

"  You  are  not  to  think  of  it,"  he  commanded, 
roughly. 

"She  will  hardly  recognize  Gregory,"  she 
continued,  monotonously,  unheeding  his  order. 
"  In  fifteen  years  he  must  have  changed  a  great 
deal.  Upstairs  I  have  a  faded  picture  of  her, 
taken  shortly  after  Gregory's  birth.  She  is 
holding  him  in  her  arms,  and  her  face  is  lit  by 
such  a  look  of  mother-love.  She  must  have 
been  very  beautiful. 

"  I  must  not  keep  you  standing  any  longer. 
Are  you  going  back  to  Penelope?"  she  con- 


208  A   HOUSE   OF    CARDS. 

tinued,  without  any  clear  knowledge  of  her 
words.  "  You  will  tell  her  that  I  am  going  to 
bed  at  once." 

"  That  is  wise,"  he  remarked,  not  disputing 
that  he  had  just  left  Penelope.  "  Mrs.  Kendall, 
will  you  not  permit  Penelope  to  remain  with 
you  ?  It  will  be  much  better  for  both  of  you, 
and  it  will  comfort  her  to  think  you  wish  her 
with  you  now." 

"  But  I  do  not.     You  must  go  now." 

He  could  think  of  no  excuse  to  urge  for  his 
continued  presence,  although  when  he  was  with- 
out the  door  a  number  of  reasons  came  to  him. 

When  Loys  regained  her  room,  the  sinister 
quiet  of  the  house  wore  upon  her. 

She  sank  wearily  down  upon  the  couch. 
She  would  go  to  bed  as  soon  as  she  had  rested 
a  moment. 

She  hoped  Gregory  would  reach  there  in 
time.  It  would  be  too  cruel  if  his  mother 
should  be  deprived  of  one  last  look  at  him. 

She  held  the  photograph  which  she  had 
-nentioned,  and  thoughtfully  studied  it.  She 
wondered  if  Mr.  Kendall  had  known  of  the 
taint  in  the  blood  at  the  time  of  his  marriage. 
Suddenly,  from  out  the  storehouse  of  her 
memory,  there  came  the  recollection  of  a  frag- 


A   HOUSE   OF    CARDS.  2OQ 

ment  of  conversation  between  Gregory  and  his 
father  that  she  had  overheard  in  London. 

Mr.  Kendall  had  said,  "  I  shall  never  forgive 
you  this;  "  and  Gregory  had  demanded,  "And 
have  I  nothing  to  forgive  you?  You  knew 
it  before  you  married,  and  still  it  did  not 
prevent —  " 

At  the  time,  Gregory  had,  in  some  manner, 
explained  the  words  to  her ;  now  she  no  longer 
needed  his  explanation.  Everything  was  illu- 
minated by  one  awful  fact. 

As  she  continued  to  look  down  upon  the 
pictured  face,  the  horror  of  the  whole  thing 
broke  more  fully  upon  her. 

"I  cannot  bear  it,"  she  cried,  pushing  the 
picture  from  her.  "  If  she  had  only  gone  with- 
out realizing  what  had  happened ;  but  to  think 
of  her  now,  trying  to  comprehend  all  that  has 
passed,  and  only  understanding  one  thing.  It 
is  maddening  to  think  of.  Poor  woman  ! 

"I  must  be  calm,"  she  pursued,  as  in  her 
excited  march  up  and,  down  the  room  she 
caught  sight  of  her  figt  re  in  the  glass.  "  I 
must  be  calm  for  their  sake.  When  it  is  all 
over,  they  will  look  to  me  for  comfort,  and  I 
must  be  able  to  give  it  to  them.  They  will 
expect  me  to  —  " 


210  A   HOUSE   OF    CARDS. 

She  laid  her  head  on  the  cushion.  "  If  I 
could  only  put  the  sight  from  me,"  she  mur- 
mured. "  He  said  it  was  a  private  asylum,  but 
the  shriekings  and  the—  I  shall  go  mad 
myself  if  I  persist  in  this,"  she  broke  off. 

Every  nook  and  corner  seemed  to  be  alive 
with  uncanny  sounds.  She  was  afraid  to  raise 
her  eyes.  Why  had  she  not  permitted  Pe- 
nelope to  remain  with  her,  or  Jane?  Where 
was  Bishop  Yorke?  She  had  begged  him  to 
stay  with  her,  but  he  had  pushed  her  aside. 
Only  Gregory  was  good  to  her,  and  now  he  was 
mad.  No,  not  mad,  but  she  must  laugh  and 
talk  a  great  deal  to  keep  him  from  becoming 
melancholy.  Oh,  yes,  she  would  laugh.  What 
mad  laughter  it  was.  But  did  not  King  Solo- 
mon write,  "I  said  of  laughter,  it  is  mad"? 
What  a  whirling  dance  her  thoughts  were  lead- 
ing her  ! 

When  she  recovered  consciousness,  she  was 
lying  on  the  floor.  After  a  little,  she  got  to 
her  feet,  and  walked  to  the  glass.  There  was 
an  irregular  blue  mark  on  her  temple,  —  evi- 
dently she  had  struck  against  a  chair  in  her 
fall. 

"  I  cannot  breathe  hi  this  house,"  she  asser- 
ted, sullenly.  "  I  could  sleep  if  I  were  at  home. 


A    HOUSE   OF    CARDS.  211 

I  always  slept  well  during  vacation.  They  will 
be  glad  to  see  me,  and  mother  will  help  me 
undress,  and  kiss  me  after  I  am  in  bed.  I 
know  I  shall  sleep  there." 

She  made  ready  for  the  street,  and,  turning 
off  the  lights,  walked  out  of  the  room.  The 
house  was  then  in  utter  darkness  save  for  a 
faint  Alight  in  the  lower  hall. 

At  the  corner  of  the  street  she  paused,  but 
after  some  moments,  awaking  to  the  fact  that 
it  was  so  late  the  cars  had  ceased  to  run,  she 
turned  her  steps  toward  town. 

Behind  her  she  heard  distinctly  the  regular 
footfall  of  a  man,  which  broke,  with  exaggerated 
sound,  upon  the  stone  flagging ;  but  now  that 
she  was  on  the  street,  she  was  no  longer  afraid. 

San  Francisco  is  essentially  a  city  of  hills,  and 
the  Kendalls  lived  in  one  of  its  highest  portions. 
The  heights  Loys  climbed  that  night  would  have 
been,  at  any  other  time,  almost  impossible  to 
her,  for  she  was  not  a  sturdy  walker ;  but  now 
she  moved  on  without  pause. 

Yorke  kept  a  few  feet  behind  her,  ready  to 
spring  to  her  side  should  there  be  need  of  him. 
Now  and  then  a  baker  or  a  milkman  rattled  by 
in  his  wagon,  but  otherwise  they  met  no  one ; 
and  Yorke  was  willing  that  she  should  thor- 


212  A   HOUSE   OF   CARDS. 

oughly  tire  herself,  when  he  thought  she  might, 
of  her  own  accord,  retrace  her  steps. 

They  commenced  to  near  the  livelier  portions 
of  the  town,  and  Yorke  felt  that  he  ought  to 
declare  his  presence  and  take  her  home,  yet 
shrank  from  doing  so.  A  moment  later  a  man 
stepped  from  a  neighboring  doorway,  and,  peer- 
ing into  Loys's  face,  observed,  "You're  out 
late,  my  pretty  one." 

The  salutation  effectually  wakened  her.  She 
shrank  back  as  Yorke  stepped  forward  and  took 
her  arm.  The  man  had  passed  on. 

"  Come,"  said  Yorke,  "  let  me  take  you 
home." 

"Where  was  I  going?  I  remember  now," 
she  pursued,  putting  her  hand  to  her  head  with 
a  pitiful  little  gesture.  "  I  was  going  to  mother." 

"Yes,  but  we  are  going  home  now,"  he 
rejoined. 

She  made  no  motion  to  turn.  Her  lips  set 
into  a  hard  line  of  determination ;  but  Yorke 
grasped  her  arm  firmly,  and  set  her  face  home- 
ward. Once  she  endeavored  to  wrest  herself 
free  from  him,  saying,  "  I  will  not  go  back.  Do 
you  hear?  I  will  not  go  back." 

He  only  held  her  the  more  securely,  affirm- 
ing, with  unswerving  decision,  "  You  are  going 
back." 


A    HOUSE   OF   CARDS.  213 

"  Going  back,"  she  repeated,  drearily.  "  Do 
you  know  to  what  you  are  taking  me  back?  " 

But  even  that  insidious  question  did  not 
sway  him. 

There  was  not  a  vehicle  of  any  description 
in  sight,  nor  was  there  any  means  of  procuring 
one,  and  he  was  forced  to  see  her  walk.  They 
were  very  quiet  for  the  first  seven  or  eight 
blocks,  and  then  her  steps  began  to  flag. 

"I  shall  have  to  rest,"  she  said  at  length. 

She  sat  down  upon  some  steps,  and  Yorke 
stood  beside  her.  The  bruise  on  her  forehead 
was  revealed  by  a  street  lamp,  and  he  surmised 
how  she  must  have  come  by  it.  He  almost 
wished  that  she  would  again  lose  consciousness 
that  he  might  carry  her.  The  deadly  exhaus- 
tion of  her  face  and  the  fierce  splendor  of  her 
eyes  unnerved  him. 

They  resumed  their  walk.  Once  or  twice 
her  strength  threatened  to  give  out,  but  she 
succeeded  in  reaching  home.  At  the  corner  of 
the  street  she  tried  to  withdraw  her  arm  from 
Yorke's. 

"  If  I  need  only  not  go  back,"  she  implored. 

He  affected  not  to  hear.     His  lips  were  stiff. 

"  We  are  almost  there  now,"  he  said,  forming 
his  words  with  an  effort,  while  his  steps  uncon- 
sciously loitered. 


214  A   HOUSE    OF   CARDS. 

Not  even  the  deadly  hostility  he  cherished 
toward  Kendall  for  his  deceit  made  him  falter 
in  taking  Loys  back  to  him ;  but  it  was  not  an 
easy  task.  He  knew  that  her  present  mood 
would  pass,  and  that  in  all  the  years  to  come 
Kendall  would  never  hear  a  reproach  or  mur- 
mur from  her ;  but  Yorke  also  realized  the  daily 
torment  she  would  undergo,  the  suppression  of 
all  natural  feeling,  and  at  that  instant  all  his 
soul  revolted  at  the  sacrifice  he  was  countenan- 
cing and  even  dictating.  But  a  saner  moment 
showed  him  there  was  no  other  road  open  to 
her.  After  all,  Kendall  was  her  husband,  and 
she  could  do  nothing  to  put  her  name  in  the 
mouth  of  the  world.  She  was  a  woman  ;  her 
hands  were  tied.  She  would  continue  to  live 
on  with  Kendall,  giving  the  outside  world  no 
cause  to  doubt  her  happiness,  and  making  her 
life  a  decorous  sham,  as  was  demanded  of  her. 
And  Kendall  would  be  quite  happy,  and  she  — 

With  desperate  courage  Yorke  fitted  the 
latch-key  in  the  door  and  opened  it.  He 
paused  uncertainly  in  the  hall,  unwilling  to 
leave  her  alone  in  the  dark,  empty  house,  but 
feeling  that  she  could  not  now  call  the  servants. 
His  mind  was  not  so  elastic  as  usual  ;  it 
worked  with  confused  laboriousness. 


A   HOUSE   OF   CARDS.  215 

"  I  shall  light  your  gas  for  you,"  he  said  at 
last. 

She  offered  no  objection,  and  he  went  up 
the  stairs,  into  the  room,  and  made  it  ablaze 
with  light.  He  was  not  anxious  for  her  to 
have  the  darkness  for  company.  He  did  not 
stay  to  look  about  him,  but  hurriedly  rejoined 
her  in  the  lower  hall. 

The  expression  of  her  face  had  changed 
during  his  absence.  All  the  drawn  hardness 
had  left  it.  She  was  again  as  he  had  always 
known  her.  One  gloved  hand  rested  upon  the 
newel  post  for  support.  She  raised  her  head 
at  his  approach. 

"  I  have  given  you  much  trouble  to-night," 
she  began,  in  her  usual  low  voice,  though  there 
was  now  an  undercurrent  of  utter  fatigue  in  it, 
"but  I  shall  not  attempt  to  thank  you,  for  I 
know  you  were  glad  to  help  me  when  I  so  much 
needed  a  friend." 

"We  are  friends  :  we  always  shall  be  friends." 

Her  hand  rested  in  his  in  perfect  confidence. 
That  he  loved  her  she  knew,  but  she  also  knew 
that  she  had  nothing  to  fear  from  him.  From 
that  night  on  he  would  understand  her  great 
need  of  friends,  and  not  deprive  her  of  his 
friendship. 


2l6  A    HOUSE   OF   CARDS. 

"  You  must  retire  now,"  he  went  on,  in  a  tone 
of  authority  which  admitted  of  no  appeal. 
"  Make  the  bed  look  as  though  you  had  oc- 
cupied it,  and  when  you  are  ready,  call  the 
maid,  saying  you  have  grown  nervous.  I  shall 
wait  here,  in  the  shadow,  until  I  hear  her  go 
to  your  room ;  then  I  shall  go  away.  Good- 
night." 

She  made  no  demur;  she  was  completely 
dominated  by  the  spell  of  his  stronger  nature. 

As  he  was  about  to  release  her  hand,  there 
came  to  him  the  full  significance  of  their  part- 
ing. He  turned  her  hand  until  it  lay  with  the 
palm  up,  then  reverently  bent  his  head  and 
kissed  the  flesh,  which  lay  there  like  a  crumpled 
rose-leaf. 

She  went  up  the  staircase  and  disappeared. 
After  a  time  he  heard  her  pass  into  the  hall 
again,  and  shortly  return  with  the  maid.  Then 
he  left  the  house. 

His  brain  was  reeling.  He  suffered  the  more 
keenly  because  he  felt  his  own  helplessness. 
If  he  could  only  lessen  her  burden,  he  imagined 
he  could  bear  his  own  grief  more  bravely. 
There  recurred  to  him  her  last  words.  Yes, 
she  needed  friends,  and  she  wanted  him  for 
her  friend. 


A    HOUSE   OF   CARDS.  217 

"Friend?"  he  breathed,  in  cynical  derision. 
He  could  not  deceive  himself  as  to  his  feeling 
toward  her  when  every  nerve  was  tingling  with 
love.  Yet  it  was  only  by  being  her  friend  that 
he  could  be  of  service  to  her.  He  must  blot 
out  all  this  mad  longing,  which  dishonored  his 
friendship  with  Kendall.  He  must  — 

He  recoiled  before  the  utter  hopelessness  of 
it  all. 

Before  he  turned  his  face  homeward  that 
morning,  he  had  battled  with  himself  and 
imagined  he  had  come  out  victor.  At  least,  he 
had  not  flinched  from  the  hard  truth.  He  saw 
clearly  the  incalculable  harm  his  love  could 
bring  her,  and  he  was  resolved  to  be  her  friend. 

A  servant  was  washing  down  the  marble  steps 
when  he  reached  home.  The  man  stood  look- 
ing after  Yorke  until  he  disappeared  into  the 
house. 

"  He  's  been  having  one  of  the  devil's  own 
nights  of  it,"  he  mused,  "  and  he  's  paying  for 
it  now  with  a  racking  good  headache.  But 
you  've  got  to  pay  for  everything  in  this  world, 
—  one  way  or  the  other,"  he  concluded,  with  a 
wise  shake  of  the  head. 


Chapter   XVII. 


JENDALL  was  gone  only  two  days.  On 
the  third  morning  he  returned  home 
unannounced.  Loys  chanced  to  be  walking 
through  the  hall  when  he  entered  the  house. 

"Is  she — "  she  began,  advancing  to  meet 
him. 

"No,"  he  corrected,  quickly.  "No;  she  is 
alive.  All  danger  is  past,  but  she  no  longer 
knows  either  of  us." 

She  forced  him  to  lie  down  on  the  couch, 
and  then  she  brought  a  flask  of  eau  de  cologne, 
and  bathed  his  brow. 

"  When  you  are  rested,  you  shall  tell  me 
about  it,"  she  said.  "But  now  you  must 
sleep." 

"  I  cannot  sleep,"  he  protested.  "  You  do 
not  know  what  I  have  undergone.  I  would 
not  wish  my  worst  enemy  to  go  through  such 
scenes  as  I  have  witnessed.  To  see  her  trying 
to  fathom  out  all  that  had  taken  place,  and 
then,  when  she  was  beginning  to  pierce  the 


A   HOUSE   OF   CARDS. 


darkness,  to  have  it  envelop  her  again.  Great 
God  !  ^t  was  awful  ;  it  was  maddening.  Loys, 
what  must  you  think  of  me  —  " 

With  all  her  feeble  strength  she  pushed  him 
back  upon  the  cushions.  The  wildness  of  his 
eyes  filled  her  with  paralyzing  fear. 

"You  must  go  to  sleep,"  she  dictated.  "I 
shall  bring  you  a  light  breakfast,  and  then  you 
must  try  to  sleep." 

He  arose,  and,  grasping  her  arms,  faced  her. 

"  Do  you  know  what  you  are  thinking?"  he 
demanded,  vehemently.  "You  imagine  you 
already  see  in  me  the  seeds  of  my  mother's 
disorder.  But  I  am  only  exhausted  from  the 
loss  of  sleep  and  the  strain  put  upon  me.  I  do 
not  know  why,  but  I  feel  certain  my  mind  will 
never  become  affected.  Don't  turn  from  me. 
I  sinned  against  you,  but  my  love  was  stronger 
than  my  consciousness  of  what  was  right  ;  and 
even  knowing  all  the  misery  I  have  brought 
you,  if  I  had  to  do  it  all  over  —  " 

"  Hush  !  You  must  prove  your  love  for  me 
by  lying  down  and  letting  me  take  care  of 
you." 

"  I  think  I  could  bear  your  reproaches 
better  than  this,"  he  exclaimed,  covering  his 
eyes  with  his  hand.  She  stood  motionless  and 


220  A   HOUSE   OF   CARDS. 

cold.  With  sudden  passion  he  drew  her  down 
beside  him. 

"  Do  you  hate  me,  or  do  you  love  me  ?  "  he 
questioned,  holding  her  with  cruel  firmness. 

There  was  a  throb  of  wild  rebellion,  which 
soon  passed.  Her  life  was  to  be  a  living  lie  : 
she  must  not  shrink  from  the  beginning.  She 
put  from  her  forever  the  oppressive  longing  she 
had  to  speak  the  truth. 

"  After  you  are  rested,  you  will  see  that  you 
must  not  put  such  questions  to  your  wife,"  she 
said. 

"  Of  course,  if  the  little  one  had  lived,  I 
know  you  could  not  forgive  me,  nor  would  I 
myself.  But  she  did  ^  not.  We  are  all  alone, 
and  there  is  no  reason  why  we  should  not  be 
happy,  is  there?" 

And  she  answered,  "  None." 

In  a  week  Kendall  had  apparently  forgotten 
all  that  had  transpired.  He  always  contrived 
to  convince  himself  that  he  was  more  sinned 
against  than  sinning.  At  first  he  seemed  to  har- 
bor some  resentment  against  Van  Arsdale  and 
Penelope  for  having  been  present  that  night, 
and  once  or  twice  he  murmured  petulantly 
that  he  would  appreciate  their  society  more 
if  they  were  not  favored  with  so  much  of  it. 


A   HOUSE   OF   CARDS.  221 

Loys  did  not  try  to  combat  his  feeling. 
She,  too,  longed  to  escape  from  them.  She 
seldom  detected  Van  Arsdale's  eyes  upon  her, 
yet  she  thought  she  understood  the  sensations 
of  a  fly  impaled  upon  a  pin  being  studied 
under  a  microscope. 

She  had  never  cared  for  the  theatre  unless 
the  play  were  an  exceptionally  good  one ;  but 
they  now  went  to  every  representation,  good, 
bad,  and  indifferent.  She  so  arranged  matters 
that  they  rarely  spent  an  evening  alone.  At 
last  Kendall  rebelled. 

"  It  is  all  very  well  to  have  people  dine  with 
us  twice,  or  even  three  times,  a  week,  but  I  am 
not  going  to  have  some  one  here  all  the  time. 
We  are  not  conducting  a  restaurant.  Recently 
we  have  been  staying  up  too  late.  You  cannot 
stand  it.  Van  Arsdale  told  me  to-day  that  I 
ought  to  send  you  away  for  a  time.  He  insists 
that  you  are  not  looking  well." 

"  Perhaps  I  was  wearing  an  unbecoming 
gown  when  he  last  saw  me,"  she  suggested. 

The  explanation  did  not  satisfy  him. 

"You  have  grown  thinner,"  he  resumed, 
"  and  I  am  not  surprised  that  it  is  so.  You 
go  to  bed  at  indecently  late  hours  and  get  up 
at  indecently  early  ones.  You  must  go  to  Del 


222  A   HOUSE   OF   CARDS. 

Monte  with  Penelope,  —  or  would  you  prefer  to 
go  over  to  the  cottage  in  Ross  Valley?  " 

"  I  am  not  going  to  Ross  Valley,"  she  de- 
clared, a  sharp  intonation  of  pain  running 
through  her  voice  at  the  remembrance  of  the 
preceding  summer  spent  at  the  cottage ;  nor 
am  I  going  to  Monterey  without  you.  I  can 
afford  to  lose  a  little  flesh.  I  used  to  term 
myself  plump,  but  probably  my  enemies  called 
me  '  fat.'  Is  not  that  an  abominable  word?  " 

In  her  Sittings  in  and  out  of  the  house  at  all 
hours,  Penelope  surprised  Loys  at  times,  as 
she  lay  extended  on  the  couch,  neither  sleep- 
ing nor  working  nor  reading. 

"You  have  grown  shockingly  lazy,"  she  ad- 
monished. "  How  can  you  lie  idle  when  there 
is  all  your  new  table  linen  to  embroider?  You 
do  not  take  enough  interest  in  yourself.  Bishop 
Yorke  asked  me  the  other  day  if  one  had  to 
be  disabled  in  order  to  arouse  your  interest. 
It  is  all  very  well  to  help  the  poor,  but  you 
need  not  give  up  your  whole  life  to  them.  Why 
don't  you  spur  on  your  jaded  Pegasus  to  re- 
newed flights?  " 

"  I  sent  off  the  manuscript  of  my  novel  only 
a  week  ago.  Do  you  wish  me  to  turn  out  a 
story  a  day?  " 


A   HOUSE   OF   CARDS.  223 

"I  do  not  know.  Perhaps  I  am  in  a  fault- 
finding mood,  but  lately  you  have  not  seemed 
so  bright  —  " 

"  And  this  after  last  night,"  opposed  Loys, 
"  when  I  imagined  myself  the  light  and  soul  of 
the  party ;  when  I  strewed  before  you  my  choic- 
est pearls  of  thought,  my  favorite  anecdotes. 
Ah,  this  is  an  ungrateful  world  !  No,  Pen,  I 
shall  confess.  You  have  merely  grown  too  well 
acquainted  with  me.  I  used  to  have  the  knack 
of  putting  the  witticisms  of  others  into  my  own 
chafing-dish  and  serving  them  up  before  the 
same  public  in  such  disguised  form  that  they 
were  unrecognizable ;  but  I  suppose  that  with 
old  age  the  vein  has  become  exhausted." 

"  Go  to  Monterey  with  us,  and  mingle  with 
the  brainless  mob  for  a  time,"  pleaded  Penelope. 

But  her  entreaties  were  unavailing,  and  she 
and  Mrs.  Luttrell  were  forced  to  go  alone. 
Loys  breathed  a  sigh  of  relief  at  their  departure. 
She  felt  that  she  could  now  do  as  she  liked 
without  any  kindly  inquisitive  eyes  upon  her. 

She  gave  herself  up  to  long  days  on  the 
couch,  when  she  did  nothing  but  brood  over 
her  troubles  and  vivisect  her  own  emotions; 
but  Kendall  knew  nothing  of  her  mood,  for  at 
night  she  was  always  ready  to  amuse  him.  She 


224  A   HOUSE   OF   CARDS. 

shrank  in  horror  from  her  own  thoughts,  —  that 
they  were  only  natural  made  them  none  the 
more  excusable.  To  be  so  tired  that  she  could 
not  think  !  and  she  filled  her  days  so  full  of 
duties  that  she  overtaxed  her  strength. 

Penelope,  however,  was  away  little  more  than 
a  fortnight,  every  day  of  which  she  sent  Loys 
a  long  letter,  for  which  the  society  papers  would 
gladly  have  paid  any  price.  She  was  a  master- 
hand  at  ridicule,  and  wrote  with  a  pointed  pen 
which  spared  no  one.  Yorke  went  down  to 
see  her  one  afternoon,  and  the  following  day 
she  returned  home. 

Between  them  they  frightened  Loys  into  a 
submissive  silence,  and  took  her  out  for  long 
drives,  and  tours  of  discovery  about  the  bay 
and  the  adjoining  country.  She  affected  an 
interest  in  everything,  but  was  unsuccessful  in 
her  efforts  to  impose  upon  them.  They  were 
aware  she  would  have  been  thankful  to  have 
been  left  to  herself. 

But  Kendall  thought  he  had  never  seen  her 
looking  better  than  the  night  of  the  Townsend 
wedding  reception.  Although  late  in  July,  every 
one  had  made  it  a  point,  if  possible,  to  return 
from  their  summer  residences  for  the  occasion. 

Loys   was   with   Whiting   when    they   came 


A   HOUSE   OF   CARDS.  225 

upon  Van  Arsdale  with  Laura  Yorke  upon  his 
arm. 

"You  both  look  surprised  to  see  Mr.  Van 
Arsdale  here.  But  we  permitted  him  no  voice 
in  the  matter,"  said  Laura,  with  a  calm  air  of 
proprietorship  which  irritated  Loys. 

"Have  you  missed  me?  "  asked  Van  Arsdale 
of  Loys. 

"  San  Rafael  is  not  at  the  other  side  of  the 
globe,"  Loys  returned.  "  If  you  had  cared  to 
spare  us  chagrin,  you  would  have  contrived  to 
give  us  one  evening  in  a  whole  month.  At 
first  we  spoke  of  your  default,  and  threatened 
to  go  after  you,  in  a  body.  Now  we  no  longer 
speak  of  you.  It  is  not  because  we  have  for- 
gotten you,  —  unfortunately  we  are  not  of  the 
forgetting  —  " 

"  I  am  coming  back  to  town.  I  shall  return 
to-mor —  " 

"  Indeed  you  shall  not,"  broke  in  Laura. 
"  We  cannot  think  of  your  deserting  us  in  that 
hurried  fashion." 

Loys  looked  at  her  in  undefined  fear.  She 
had  never  felt  a  match  for  Laura  Yorke,  and 
she  was  now  filled  with  unreasoning  apprehen- 
sion. She  looked  round  for  Penelope,  who 
she  felt  was  clever  enough  to  outwit  Laura. 


226  A   HOUSE   OF   CARDS. 

"You  will  surely  see  Penelope,"  Loys  said 
to  Van  Arsdale,  as  they  were  swept  apart. 

A  few  moments  later  Yorke  came  to  claim 
her,  and  bore  her  away  from  Whiting. 

"  Will  Townsend  told  me  that  supper  is  to 
be  served  in  another  half- hour,"  he  said,  "  and 
he  is  going  to  have  the  men  place  a  table  on 
the  east  veranda,  for  a  select  party.  I  shall 
install  you  there,  and  then  recruit  our  forces." 

He  found  a  comfortable  corner  for  her  on 
the  veranda,  and,  after  she  had  assured  him  that 
she  was  warm  enough,  he  went  away  to  gather 
together  the  chosen  spirits. 

Loys  contentedly  lay  back  in  her  chair,  en- 
joying the  balmy,  flower-scented  air,  and  the 
prettiness  of  the  scene  before  her.  She  started 
as  she  suddenly  heard  Laura  Yorke  and  Van 
Arsdale  in  the  room  behind  her.  Evidently 
they  were  standing  at  the  window,  but  were 
unaware  of  her  presence,  as  the  high  back  of 
her  chair  effectually  concealed  her. 

"  It  would  have  been  a  pity  to  break  in 
upon  Penelope's  waltz,"  Laura  was  saying. 
"  How  she  does  enter  into  the  spirit  of  gayety  ! 
She  does  not  look  nor  act  as  if  she  were  more 
than  twenty,  does  she  ?  I  tell  her  that  some 
day  she  will  marry  her  English  lord.  His  in- 


A   HOUSE   OF   CARDS.  227 

fatuation  was  clearly  shown  when  he  was  here, 
and  even  Penelope  can  hardly  look  higher. 
He  seems  to  have  every  desirable  quality." 

Van  Arsdale  proffered  no  remark.  At  length 
he  said  :  "  There  she  goes  with  Blair.  Ah,  well, 
it  does  not  matter.  I  shall  see  her  to-morrow 
night.  I  have  trespassed  upon  your  hospitality 
too  long  as  it  is." 

"  You  cannot  mean  to  leave  us,  when  we  all 
want  you  so  much,"  Laura  exclaimed,  with  a 
loss  of  self-possession  utterly  foreign  to  her, 
"  and  when  no  one  has  a  right  to  demand  your 
return  to  town.  We  shall  miss  you,"  she  con- 
tinued, laying  her  hand  on  his  arm. 

Loys  hardly  dared  to  breathe.  She  was  con- 
scious that  she  ought  to  do  something,  but  she 
could  not  determine  what. 

Van  Arsdale  stood  looking  down  at  the  girl's 
gloved  hand  upon  his  arm.  Her  eyes  were 
raised  to  him.  They  were  swimming  in  tears. 
He  felt  that  something  was  demanded  of  him, 
but  he  made  no  movement. 

"  Have  we  bored  you?  "  Laura  pursued,  then 
turned  away  her  head,  to  hide  the  tears  which 
rolled  down  her  cheeks. 

The  man,  feeling  himself  a  brute,  hesitatingly 
made  a  step  forward.  He  could  no  longer 


228  A   HOUSE   OF   CARDS. 

thrust  from  him  the  thought  which  had  threat- 
ened to  intrude  itself  upon  him  once  or  twice 
before. 

"  Laura  !  "  he  exclaimed. 

"Do  not  look  at  me,"  she  entreated,  crouch- 
ing down  upon  the  window-seat.  "  Oh,  I  am 
so  ashamed  !  Take  me  home." 

"Don't,"  he  protested.  "Don't  cry.  Do 
you  think  you  love  me  enough  to  be  my  wife  ? 
You  must  not  forget  my  age  —  Come  away. 
They  are  going  out  upon  the  veranda." 

"It  was  too  cold  for  you  here  without  a 
wrap,"  said  Yorke  to  Loys.  "You  look  as 
chill  as  a  moonbeam." 

She  looked  up  at  him  in  mute  appeal. 

He  bent  forward  to  shield  her  from  the  eyes 
of  the  others,  saying,  "  What  is  it  ?  Are  you 
quite  well?  " 

"  Yes,  but  —  Ah,  you  cannot  help  me.  Let 
us  be  gay,  gay  as  all  the  rest  of  the  world  is  in 
appearance  to-night." 

"  Tell  me,"  he  entreated.  "  No  one  is  lis- 
tening. You  can  tell  me  safely." 

He  looked  so  powerful,  so  capable  of  setting 
right  what  was  so  plainly  wrong,  that  she  half 
swayed  toward  him. 

"  This  will  never  do,"  called  Whiting.    "  Look 


A   HOUSE   OF   CARDS.  229 

here,  Yorke,  we  expect  you  and  Mrs.  Kendall 
to  help  us  with  this  array  of  bottles.  Don't 
you  intend  to  eat  or  drink?" 

Van  Arsdale  came  out  upon  the  veranda  as 
Penelope  and  Whiting  were  engaged  in  a 
war  of  words  which  had  stopped  all  other 
conversation. 

Loys  regarded  him  half  in  anger,  half  in 
pity.  He  had  taken  the  one  course  seemingly 
open  to  him :  it  would  have  required  a  man 
with  a  more  resourceful  brain  than  he  possessed 
to  have  extricated  himself  uncommitted  from 
the  recent  encounter.  Despite  her  generous 
scorn  of  Laura,  Loys  was  forced  to  bestow  a 
certain  amount  of  unwilling  admiration  upon 
the  adroitness  with  which  she  had  gained  the 
man  she  loved. 

As  some  retort  of  Penelope's  provoked  the 
laughter  of  those  about  her,  a  quiver  of  pain 
stirred  Van  Arsdale's  face. 

"You  forgot  to  laugh,"  he  said  to  Loys.  "I 
thought  you  and  Penelope  had  a  pact  to  laugh 
at  each  other's  wit." 

"  I  never  can  enter  properly  into  the  gayety 
of  a  crowd,"  she  returned. 

"When  I  left  Mrs.  Kendall  here  before 
supper,  she  was  thoughtlessly  gay,"  put  in 


230  A  HOUSE  OF   CARDS. 

Yorke.  "  When  I  returned  five  minutes  later, 
I  found  her  as  you  now  see  her." 

Van  Arsdale  gazed  at  her  with  unwonted 
keenness.  It  seemed  to  her  that  his  eyes  de- 
manded why  she  had  not  interceded  to  save 
him.  With  maddening  after-wisdom,  she  saw 
how  easily  she  might  have  frustrated  Laura's 
cunning. 

Then  she  arose,  saying  petulantly,  "  I  am 
chilled.  Let  us  go  in." 

"You  have  remained  motionless  too  long," 
remarked  Yorke.  "  Will  you  give  me  this 
dance?" 

She  laid  her  hand  on  his  arm  as  Penelope 
came  up  to  them. 

"  Will  you  be  very  much  disappointed,  Loys, 
if  I  deprive  you  of  your  waltz  ?  I  wish  to  go 
home.  I  have  a  headache ;  would  you  call  it 
an  aching  void?" 

"  Wait  five  minutes,"  urged  Yorke.  "  Now 
that  Mrs.  Kendall  has  promised  me  this  waltz, 
I  intend  to  —  " 

"  I  am  sorry,  but  Loys  is  going  to  take  me 
home  now." 

Loys  studied  her  in  inward  questioning,  won- 
dering if  some  inkling  of  the  truth  had  already 
reached  her. 


A   HOUSE   OF   CARDS.  23! 

"Yes,  let  us  go,"  she  agreed,  nervously. 

"After  you  have  given  me  one  little  turn," 
Yorke  said,  with  sullen  tenacity.  The  hauteur 
of  her  face  recalled  him  to  himself.  "  I  am 
afraid  I  am  in  a  hectoring  mood  to-night.  But 
I  confess  myself  beaten,  for  here  comes  Ken- 
dall himself." 

Penelope's  headache  left  no  visible  imprint 
upon  her  spirits.  She  was  in  a  bright,  talkative 
mood  all  the  way  home. 

"You  are  not  to  kiss  me  like  that  again," 
she  commanded,  with  a  wilful  laugh,  as  Loys 
kissed  her  good- night.  "  It  was  a  kiss  which 
seemed  to  say  you  were  sorry  for  me." 

Loys  passed  the  night  in  bitter  perplexity, 
and  the  daylight  found  her  with  no  settled  plan 
of  action.  But  when  Kendall  had  gone  to  his 
office,  she  ran  across  the  lawn  to  Penelope's. 

She  was  about  to  do  a  dishonorable  act,  but 
she  believed  herself  justified  in  it.  She  would 
stop  at  nothing  to  save  Penelope  one  pang. 
Penelope  was  in  her  luxurious  bath-room,  the 
one  possession  Loys  really  envied  her. 

"Is  that  you,  Loys?"  she  called.  "Draw 
your  chair  to  the  door  and  we  can  talk  com- 
fortably. Whose  reputation  shall  we  first  at- 
tack? I  woke  up  sleepy  this  morning,  so  I 


232  A   HOUSE   OF   CARDS. 

shall  not  be  so  amusing  as  ordinarily.  By  the 
way,  did  Riker  Van  Arsdale  speak  to  you  last 
evening?  He  never  so  much  as  came  near 
me." 

"  I  appeared  in  the  role  of  eavesdropper  last 
night,"  commenced  Loys,  glad  of  the  closed 
door  between  them,  "  and  I  am  going  to 
make  you  share  my  guilt  by  telling  you  what 
I  overheard." 

"Wait  a  moment.  I  shall  enjoy  it  more 
thoroughly  if  I  see  your  face,  and  I  shall  soon 
be  ready  to  throw  on  a. peignoir" 

Her  words  hastened  Loys.  "  Did  you  notice 
anything  unusual  between  Laura  Yorke  and 
Riker  Van  Arsdale?" 

There  was  an  almost  imperceptible  pause 
before  Penelope  answered,  "  Well,  they  were 
together  nearly  all  the  evening." 

"  And  they  have  decided  to  be  together  for 
the  rest  of  their  days,"  broke  in  Loys,  helpless 
to  soften  her  words. 

The  connecting  door  opened,  and  Penelope 
swept  in.  She  was  still  flushed  from  her  bath, 
and  her  hair,  which  had  been  massed  at  the 
top  of  her  head  in  a  great  knot,  had  loosened 
itself  from  the  one  shell  pin  which  held  it,  and 
waved  softly  about  her  face.  Her  beauty  hurt 


A  HOUSE  OF   CARDS.  233 

Loys  at  that  moment.  It  seemed  only  to  add 
to  the  bitter  pathos  of  the  whole  affair. 

"  It  was  entirely  unexpected  on  his  part," 
Loys  resumed.  "  He  did  the  one  thing  left 
him  to  do,  under  the  circumstances." 

She  briefly  recounted  what  had  happened. 

Penelope  listened  without  comment.  At  the 
end,  she  said  :  "  She  really  deserves  him  for  her 
cleverness.  Possibly  the  plan  might  not  have 
been  successful  with  every  man,  but  only  a 
simpleton  could  doubt  its  success  with  him. 
And  so  Riker  is  going  to  be  married,"  she  pro- 
ceeded, musingly.  "  It  will  be  hard  to  give 
him  up,  for  virtually  it  will  be  giving  him  up ; 
his  marriage  cannot  help  but  alter  our  relations. 
Do  you  know,  it  makes  one  feel  curiously  old 
to  see  all  one's  friends  getting  married.  Laura 
always  did  admire  him." 

"  I  must  go  home,"  murmured  Loys,  rising. 

"  Will  you  do  me  another  favor  ?  I  wish  you 
would  go  down  town  with  me.  There  are  sev- 
eral birthday  gifts  which  might  just  as  well  be 
ordered  to-day  as  later,  and  I  suppose  I  ought 
to  send  a  silver  porridge-bowl  to  that  Taylor 
baby." 

Penelope  usually  affected  the  same  severely 
simple  style  on  the  street  as  did  Loys,  but  that 
morning  she  made  an  elaborate  toilet. 


234  A   HOUSE   OF  CARDS. 

She  went  out  of  her  way  to  be  amiable  to 
people  whose  existence  she  usually  blandly 
ignored. 

"  Penelope,  my  dear,  which  of  these  two 
lamps  shall  I  take?"  deferred  Mrs.  Hamilton, 
whom  they  met  in  the  art  rooms  of  the  White 
House.  "  Presents  are  simply  ruining  me  this 
month.  These  ain't  very  handsome,  I  admit, 
but  they're  the  cheapest  they  have  in  the 
place,"  confessed  the  old  lady,  in  whose  ears 
glistened,  from  morning  until  night,  diamonds 
so  large  and  brilliant  that  they  successfully 
blinded  many  to  her  awful  delinquencies.  She 
had  a  fearless  tongue,  and  a  marvellous  memory 
for  the  personal  history  of  early  days,  which 
gained  for  her  a  degree  of  deferential  respect 
which  was  truly  ludicrous. 

"  Do  not  spend  too  much  money,"  cautioned 
Penelope.  "  You  know  there  is  another  wed- 
ding whispered  about." 

"Whose?" 

"  Don't  you  know?  Ah,  well,  it  is  not  my 
secret,  but  you  will  soon  hear  of  it." 

"  I  believe  it 's  your  own,  and  it 's  high  time, 
and  it  won't  require  much  of  a  guess  as  to  the 
man,"  pursued  the  terrible  old  lady,  peering  at 
Penelope  in  not  unkind  shrewdness.  "  If  you 


A   HOUSE  OF  CARDS.  235 

had  married,  you  would  n't  look  so  young  and 
free  from  care,  but  it 's  about  time  you  settled 
down.  You  're  my  Maud's  age,  I  know,  though 
no  one  would  think  it.  But  that  is  what  it  is 
to  have  three  children,  and  a  husband  with  an 
eye  for  the  beautiful  —  in  other  women.  But  I 
sha  n't  send  you  a  present.  First  of  all,  you 
won't  invite  me,  and  you've  made  too  much 
fun  of  my  presents." 

"  If  I  were  to  be  married,  I  should  certainly 
invite  you ;  I  wish  one  of  your  famous  lamps,  — 
and  I  never  should  have  the  courage  to  buy 
one  for  myself,"  Penelope  smiled. 

A  moment  later  the  old  lady's  laughter  re- 
sounded through  the  apartment. 

Nothing  was  demanded  of  Loys  that  morning. 
Penelope  smiled  and  talked  for  both ;  but  Loys 
was  exhausted  when  she  reached  home. 

"  Was  there  ever  any  one  as  stupid  as  my- 
self? "  she  appealed.  "  If  I  had  only  made 
my  presence  known  when  L&ura  began  to  speak 
of  Penelope,  I  could  have  prevented  what  fol- 
lowed. And  I  meant  Penelope  to  be  happy," 
she  continued,  in  fierce  impatience.  "  Do  I 
dare  ?  "  she  asked,  as  a  sudden  thought  came 
to  her.  "  Yes,  I  dare  do  anything  for  Penelope. 
She  shall  be  happy." 


236  A   HOUSE  OF   CARDS. 

Forgetting  all  about  luncheon,  she  went  into 
town  again.  Her  courage  failed  her  as  she 
stepped  from  the  elevator  in  the  Mills  Build- 
ing, and  found  herself  before  Yorke's  door.  As 
she  stood  hesitating,  Yorke  himself  opened  the 
door.  There  was  a  gleam  of  astonishment  at 
sight  of  her,  which  he  quickly  subdued. 

"  I  have  come  upon  a  daring  errand,"  she 
finally  commenced.  "  I  am  going  to  tell  you 
what  I  tried  to  say  last  night.  I  have  always 
thought  that  Mr.  Van  Arsdale  cared  for  Pene- 
lope, but  felt  that  she  was  worthy  of  more 
love  than  he  could  give  her,  have  not  you?  " 

"  This  is  too  hard  for  you,"  Yorke  exclaimed. 
"  Let  me  finish.  When  I  left  you  on  the  ver- 
anda last  night,  you  overheard  what  took  place 
between  Laura  and  Van  Arsdale.  Before  she 
retired  her  better  self  was  again  in  the  ascen- 
dant. She  has  written  him,  saying  he  must 
not  endeavor  to  see  her,  and  asking  him  to 
forget  what  occurred.  My  mother  and  Laura 
start  for  New  York  to-morrow." 

It  was  not  an  easy  position  for  either  of  them, 
and  Loys  looked  down  upon  the  carpet  to  hide 
her  tears.  Yorke  walked  to  the  window. 

"  Do  not  blame  her  too  much,"  he  urged, 
coming  back.  "  Her  excuse  is  that  she  has 


A   HOUSE  OF  CARDS.  237 

given  him  her  best  love.  As  soon  as  he  re- 
ceived her  note,  he  went  to  the  house;  but 
Laura  refused  to  see  him,  and  he  came  to  me. 
He  accused  me  of  having  prompted  the  letter, 
but  I  succeeded  in  convincing  him  I  had  had 
nothing  to  do  with  it.  I  also  told  him  a  truth 
or  two.  I  think  Penelope  is  going  to  be 
happy." 

Loys  impulsively  took  his  hand.  "  I  am  so 
happy,  so  happy,"  she  breathed,  with  a  tremu- 
lous little  smile. 

Yorke's  face  set  in  an  expression  of  grim 
determination.  He  thought  she  would  never 
rise  to  go. 

"  I  have  undertaken  too  much,"  he  decided. 
"  If  she  does  not  soon  go,  I  shall  forget  every- 
thing but  that  I  love  her." 

Still  unaware  of  her  peril,  Loys  left  him. 

She  had  been  gone  but  a  few  moments  when 
Kendall  came  in. 

"  I  met  my  wife  do\^istairs,"  he  said. 
"  She  told  me  I  must  not  inquire  what  her 
errand  with  you  was.  I  am  here  about  that 
Marsh  lease.  But,  first  of  all,  I  want  to  know 
if  you  think  Loys  looking  well.  Haswell  wishes 
me  to  send  her  away,  but  I  cannot  leave  now, 
and  I  cannot  bear  the  thought  of  being  with- 


238  A   HOUSE   OF   CARDS. 

out  her,  even  for  a  week  or  two.  She  insists 
that  she  is  perfectly  well,  and  she  certainly  has 
not  been  in  bed  a  day  since  her  illness  last 
September.  A  stranger  can  tell  better  how  she 
looks  than  one  who  sees  her  every  day." 

"  Does  Mrs.  Kendall  wish  to  go  away  ? " 
Yorke  asked,  shifting  a  paper-weight  from  one 
side  of  the  desk  to  the  other. 

"  No,  she  does  not,"  Kendall  replied,  tri- 
umphantly. "  In  fact,  she  absolutely  refuses  to 
go.  She  used  to  fret  a  great  deal  more  than 
she  now  does.  Formerly  she  could  not  enjoy 
her  day's  bread  without  seeing  to-morrow's 
(already  buttered)  in  sight,  forgetting  it  would 
do  her  no  good  to  save  her  bread  until  it  was 
stale.  She  lives  more  in  the  present  now." 

While  Yorke  listened,  he  was  thankful  that 
his  moment  of  madness  had  been  short-lived. 
He  was  divided  between  pity  and  contempt  for 
Gregory  Kendall,  yet  he  was  glad  that  the  man 
saw  nothing  of  the  effort  through  which  Loys 
always  appeared  bright  and  well.  It  was  little 
surprising  that  she  endeavored  to  live  in  the 
present.  She  was  wise  to  close  her  eyes  to  the 
future,  but  Yorke  doubted  her  success  in  keep- 
ing them  closed. 

He  shrank  from  the  thought  of  the  life  of 


A   HOUSE   OF   CARDS.  239 

exhausting  effort  which  stretched  before  her, 
and  he  drew  a  sharper  breath  as  he  saw  how 
narrowly  he  had  escaped  darkening  it  for  her. 

"  If  I  ever  cause  her  a  moment's  pain,  I 
shall  be  the  blackest  scoundrel  who  ever  lived," 
Yorke  declared,  when  Kendall  had  gone.  "  A 
woman  is  satisfied  with  so  little  !  and  as  my 
friendship  contents  her,  there  is  no  harm  in 
continuing  to  see  her.  She  knows  how  much 
Kendall  needs  her,  and  separation  from  him 
has  never  occurred  to  her.  She  is  utterly 
beyond  me,  and  to  speak  would  be  to  —  " 

His  heart  failed  him  at  the  utter  hopeless- 
ness of  it  all.  He  buried  his  face  in  his  hands, 
murmuring,  "  Loys,  Loys,  my  love  !  " 

But  his  cry  did  not  awaken  him  to  the  great 
need  there  was  that  their  attempt  at  friendship 
should  cease. 


Chapter   XVIII. 
* 

JHAT  same  afternoon  Penelope  was  in 
the  garden  in  the  rear  of  the  house 
when  the  man  brought  her  a  card. 

"  I  shall  receive  Mr.  Van  Arsdale  here, 
Wilson." 

"  Even  if  you  come  only  once  a  month,  you 
must  not  expect  to  be  treated  with  ceremony," 
she  called,  as  Van  Arsdale  came  up  the  path. 
"  We  are  looking  old  and  jaded,  Mr.  Van 
Arsdale,"  she  continued,  courtesying.  "We 
cannot  stand  late  hours,  Mr.  Van  Arsdale. 
We  should  gracefully  retire,  Mr.  Van  Arsdale. 
We  are  growing  sadly  old,  Mr.  Van  Arsdale." 

But  she  did  not  look  old,  as  she  stood  before 
him  in  a  sheer  white  gown  of  some  wash 
material,  and  the  amber  light  of  the  setting  sun 
came  drifting  through  the  foliage  of  the  huge 
palm-tree  behind  her,  and  lost  itself  in  the 
depth  of  her  eyes. 

"Do  you  know,"  she  cried,  changing  color 
under  his  steady  eyes,  "  you  look  as  though  you 


A   HOUSE   OF   CARDS.  241 

had  come  to  tell  me  some  great  news,  some 
secret." 

"  So  I  have." 

"  I  am  so  glad  !  I  am  hungering  for  a  sen- 
sation. I  wrote  letters  all  the  afternoon,  and, 
for  once,  they  were  dull  letters.  San  Francisco 
is  such  a  stupidly  proper  place.  None  of 
one's  friends  ever  obligingly  gives  us  cause 
for  gossip.  And  now  for  your  news. 

"  How  slow  you  are  ! "  she  went  on  indefati- 
gably,  seating  herself  on  a  rustic  bench,  while 
he  sat  above  her,  watching  her  as  she  lightly 
touched  the  queen  pansies  she  had  been  gather- 
ing, in  their  quaint  garb  of  royal  purple.  "  You 
really  must  commence,  for  I  shall  have  to  dress 
for  dinner  soon,  and  I  cannot  ask  you  to  stay 
to-night." 

"Can't  you?  "  he  questioned,  blankly. 

"  No.  But  where  is  your  story  ?  You  have 
gotten  out  of  practice.  I  remember  you  used 
to  tell  nice  ones  in  the  days  when  I  was  a  little 
girl  and  you  held  me  upon  your  knee."  ' 

"  I  never  did  hold  you  on  my  knee,"  he 
rebelled.  "  To  hear  you,  one  would  imagine  I 
was  old  enough  to  be  your  grandfather.  It  is 
true,  I  am  past  forty,  but  you  —  " 

"  I  shall  be  twenty-eight  in  two  months,"  she 
16 


242  A   HOUSE   OF   CARDS. 

supplied.  "But  we  are  not  going  to  discuss 
ages.  I  am  impatiently  waiting  for  the  story." 

"  Once  upon  a  time,"  he  began,  tracing  a 
capital  "  P  "  in  the  gravel  with  his  stick,  "  there 
was  a  man,  old  and  ugly  and  morose,  who 
dared  to  raise  his  eyes  to  a  woman  who  was  as 
far  above  him  as  the  stars.  He  did  not  blind 
himself  to  the  difference  in  their  age,  to  her 
beauty,  and  her  —  " 

"  You  must  not  think  of  that,"  she  broke  in, 
"  I  am  sure  it  never  occurs  to  her." 

"Are  you?"  he  asked,  eagerly,  taking  her 
passive  hand  into  his.  "  I  never  knew  my 
great  need  for  you,  Pen,  until  last  night,  when 
you  seemed  to  vanish  from  me.  What  is  the 
matter,  love  ?  " 

She  had  laid  her  head  upon  his  knee,  but  the 
one  glimpse  of  her  face  dissipated  all  the  doubt 
of  her  love  he  had  entertained. 

"  Pen,  do  you  love  me  despite  my  years  and 
my  settled  ways?  Do  you  know  what  people 
will  say?  I  have  no  right  to  let  you  do  it. 
Are  you  sure  you  will  be  happy  with  me  and 
the  little  I  have  to  give  you?" 

She  raised  her  face  with  sudden  passion. 

"  I  must  speak  now ;  I  have  been  silent  so 
long.  I  know  you  cannot  give  me  your  best 


A   HOUSE   OF   CARDS.  243 

love,  but  I  shall  be  content  with  little.  I 
realize  what  people  will  say ;  I  have  said  it  all 
to  myself  many  times  in  the  effort  to  displace 
you  from  my  heart.  5ut  I  cannot  love  any 
one  else  but  you.  If  you  will  only  let  me  be 
with  you,  I  shall  be  the  happiest  woman  in  the 
world." 

He  bent  down  to  her  as  she  rested  against 
his  knee,  a  great  flood  of  tenderness  filling  his 
heart.  The  love  he  could  give  her  seemed  so 
pitifully  small  next  to  that  which  she  lavished 
upon  him.  He  drew  her  head  to  his  breast. 

"  Even  if  you  are  asking  me  only  in  pity," 
she  faltered,  stealing  her  arm  about  his  neck, 
"  I  am  happy." 

Her  words  cut  him  to  the  quick.  There 
was  a  dull  pain  in  his  heart  as  he  thought  of 
the  woman  to  whose  memory  he  had  been  un- 
true, and  then  he  banished  it. 

"  I  am  old,  Pen,  and  there  is  nothing  in  my 
life  hidden  from  you,  yet  if  you  knew  the  bitter 
pain  I  suffered  last  night  because  of  ydu,  you 
would  not  question  my  love." 

"  Why  because  of  me  ?  " 

"  Why  —  Why,  because  you  went  to  supper 
with  Blair,  instead  of  with  me,"  he  finished, 
lamely. 


244  A    HOUSE   OF   CARDS. 

"  How  could  I  go  with  you  when  you  did 
not  even  ask  me?"  she  demanded,  with  a 
dazzling  smile. 

"  Mrs.  Yorke  and  Laura  are  going  East  to- 
morrow," he  volunteered,  pressing  her  closer 
to  him.  "  Pen,  can't  you  persuade  Mrs.  Ken- 
dall to  go  away  for  a  while?"  he  continued. 
"Don't  you  realize  how  ill  she  is  looking? 
By  the  way,  do  you  know  why  she  went  to 
Yorke's  office  to-day?" 

"  Yes,  I  do,"  she  returned,  feeling  positive  she 
now  knew  to  whom  she  owed  her  happiness. 

"  Don't  you  think  she  would  be  better  away 
from  here  for  a  time?  " 

Their  eyes  met  in  a  long  glance  of  under- 
standing, and  her  lips  quivered. 

"She  will  not  leave  Gregory  now.  I  think 
she  fears  she  may  not  be  strong  enough  to 
return  to  him.  There  is  nothing  to  dread. 
She  will  go  on  to  the  end  without  a  falter. 
I  am  going  to  tell  you  some  —  something  I 
know  I  should  keep  to  myself,  but —  Do 
you  know  what  her  life  is?  The  other  day 
after  Gregory  had  kissed  her,  I  saw  her  shud- 
der. She  mistakes  his  slightest  moment  of 
thoughtfulness  for  melancholy,  and  I  heard  her 
say  to  Dr.  Haswell,  '  You  must  give  me  some- 


A    HOUSE   OF    CARDS.  245 

thing  to  make  me  sleep,  or  I  believe  I  shall 
lose  my  reason.'  Is  she  right  to  go  on  living 
with  him  ?  Surely  she  has  a  right  to  happiness, 
too.  Oh,  how  is  it  going  to  end?  " 

"  Do  not  cry,"  he  begged,  smoothing  her 
hair.  "  Yorke  must  go  away." 

"  He  must  not  go  away.  He  is  the  one 
gleam  of  happiness  in  her  life.  After  she  has 
seen  him,  she  is  more  as  she  used  to  be. 
Neither  of  them  is  irresponsible  or  careless  of 
his  own  self-respect.  We  are  insulting  her," 
she  broke  off.  "  Let  me  go  to  dress  for  dinner 
now." 

"  You  could  not  put  on  anything  more  be- 
coming. I  do  not  have  to  go  away,  as  you  at 
first  said,  do  I,  dear?  " 

"  No.  I  thought  you  were  going  to  tell  me 
—  At  least,  I  did  not  think  you  intended  to 
stay,  so  I  made  believe  I  did  not  want  you." 

"  And  you  will  give  me  the  next  few  days, 
will  you  not,  Pen?" 

"  I  cannot,"  she  deplored.  "  Mr.  Bedell 
and  his  sister  arrived  to-day,  and  I  asked  them 
to  go  to  Ross  Valley,  to  stay  until  Monday." 

His  look  of  disappointment  delighted  her. 

"  On  Sunday  I  shall  invite  you  and  Bishop, 
Loys  and  Gregory,  and  Mr.  Browne,  over  for 
a  picnic.  Will  not  that  be  lovely?  " 


346  A  HOUSE  OF   CARDS. 

"  Is  that  what  you  call  '  lovely '  ?  No,  it 
will  not  be  '  lovely  '  at  all,"  he  protested.  "  I 
am  like  Mrs.  Kendall  in  my  objection  to  crowds. 
I  shall  not  have  a  moment  alone  with  you,  I 
know." 

"Of  course  you  will  not,  if  you  are  not 
clever.  But  perhaps  if  you  exercised  a  little 
wit,  and  I  went  half-way  to  meet  you  — 

He  leaned  down,  and,  as  it  had  grown  dusk, 
he  found  the  courage  to  go  more  than  half- 
way to  meet  her  lips. 


Chapter  XIX. 

j[S  Penelope  went  over  to  Ross  Valley  on 
the  following  day,  only  the  Kendalls 
and  Yorke  were  told  of  the  engagement.  Loys 
found  it  impossible  to  refuse  Penelope  anything 
at  the  moment,  and  promised  that  she  and 
Gregory  would  make  one  of  the  picnic-party  on 
Sunday. 

Penelope  and  her  guests  met  them  at  the 
station  with  a  tally-ho  coach,  and  they  at  once 
set  out.  Kendall  was  at  first  inclined  to  deride 
the  idea  of  a  long  drive,  saying  he  would  prefer 
to  picnic  in  Penelope's  own  spacious  grounds, 
or  in  Schaefer's  Grove ;  but  when  they  were 
fairly  started,  he  made  no  further  objections, 
for  Miss  Bedell  divided  her  attentions,  with 
impartial  favor,  between  him  and  Douglas 
Browne,  who  had  been  invited  for  her  special 
benefit. 

At  one  o'clock  they  drove  into  the  shadow  of 
a  great  clump  of  trees,  at  the  foot  of  which 
ran  a  little  brook,  and  the  luncheon  was  un- 


248  A   HOUSE   OF   CARDS. 

packed.  Loys  put  the  graceful  ferns  Yorke 
had  cut  in  the  middle  of  the  table-cloth,  and 
piled  upon  them  the  luscious  fruits,  arranging 
everything  with  the  daintiness  which  marked 
her. 

They  were  ravenously  hungry,  but  Penelope 
insisted  that  Yorke  was  using  his  skill  at  sleight- 
of-hand  in  disposing  of  his  food. 

"Who  will  reach  me  that  freckled  egg?" 
Yorke  asked,  lazily,  entirely  unabashed  by  their 
remarks.  "  You  make  me  ashamed  of  my 
appetite,  Mrs.  Kendall.  You  have  been  hold- 
ing that  sandwich  for  the  last  five  minutes." 

Loys  started  guiltily. 

"  Perhaps  Mrs.  Kendall  is  wiser  than  I,  and 
dreads  dyspepsia,"  suggested  Miss  Bedell. 

"  I  have  always  enjoyed  most  vulgar  health ; 
I  am  never  conscious  of  my  infernal,  I  mean 
my  internal,  machinery,"  Loys  asserted. 

"  There  is  a  box  of  candy  somewhere  about," 
said  Penelope.  "  Some  one  please  search  for 
it.  Mrs.  Kendall  is  never  happy  unless  eating 
sweets." 

"  That  is  all  a  thing  of  the  past,"  commented 
Kendall.  "  I  brought  a  box  of  candy  home  on 
Friday  night,  and  it  is  still  untouched." 

"I    am    getting    past    the   chocolate-cream 


A   HOUSE  OF   CARDS.  249 

stage ;  even  marrons  cease  to  tempt  me.  Oh, 
I  realize  I  am  getting  to  a  very  certain  age," 
sighed  Loys,  whimsically,  listening  to  the  car- 
ollings  of  some  wood-thrtash  in  the  still  deeps 
behind  them. 

When  luncheon  was  a  thing  of  the  past,  they 
lay  lazily  about.  Mrs.  Luttrell,  however,  had 
had  the  forethought  to  bring  a  sofa-cushion  for 
Loys,  who  was  exceedingly  uncomfortable  if 
she  found  her  head  on  a  level  with  her  feet. 

Yorke  and  Kendall  and  Penelope  formed 
themselves  into  a  trio,  and  sang  some  sacred 
music,  which  fell  with  fine  effect  on  the  curious 
dense  quiet  which  reigned.  They  were  very 
silent  when  the  voices  died  away. 

"  If  services  were  conducted  in  the  open  air, 
we  would  not  be  given  a  jeweller's  shop  as  an 
idea  of  heaven,"  Penelope  suddenly  said. 

"  We  all  make  our  own  God.  The  more 
spiritual  we  are,  the  more  spiritually  we  con- 
ceive the  Father  of  the  Universe,"  remarked 
Loys. 

"  Oh,  look  here,  you  agnostics,  or  pantheists, 
or  whatever  you  are,  I  shall  leave  you  if  you 
begin  to  discuss  religious  matters,"  Kendall 
avowed.  "  Are  you  a  bit  the  happier  for  dis- 
believing what  you  were  taught  to  believe  when 


250  A    HOUSE   OF   CARDS. 

you  were  children?"  He  never  questioned 
certain  subjects.  "Well,  I  am  glad  I  still 
believe  in  the  old-fashioned  heaven." 

" '  Heav'n  but  the  vision  of  fulfill'd  desire.' 
But  the  believers  and  the  unbelievers  are  all 
more  concerned  in  laying  the  corner-stones  of 
their  earthly  mansions  than  for  those  they  hope 
to  occupy  beyond  the  skies,"  said  Yorke.  "  It 
is  not  so  comfortable  a  creed,  but  we  know  we 
are  independent  agents,  not  puppets,  whose 
acts  must  be  our  own  saviour.  But  as  Carlyle 
said,  '  Not  our  logical  mensurative  faculty,  but 
our  imaginative  one,  is  king  over  us.'  " 

"And  what  are  Mrs.  Kendall's  views?" 
queried  Bedell,  raising  himself  to  look  at  her. 
"  She  has  fallen  asleep,"  he  announced,  in  a 
whisper,  in  the  tone  of  one  making  a  wonder- 
ful discovery. 

"  Do  not  stop  talking  now,"  cautioned  Yorke, 
"  or  the  sudden  quiet  will  waken  her." 

"  I  have  been  sitting  so  long  that  my  legs 
are  dizzy,"  Penelope  laughed.  "  Who  wishes 
to  go  for  a  walk?  " 

With  the  exception  of  Kendall,  who  preferred 
to  remain  with  Loys,  and  Yorke,  who  had  to 
care  for  the  horses,  the  whole  party  professed 
their  readiness  to  go. 


A   HOUSE   OF   CARDS.  251 

They  started  out  on  their  tramp,  and  Yorke 
went  away  to  feed  and  water  the  horses. 
When  he  returned  a  while  later,  Kendall  was 
sitting  beside  Loys,  ready  to  brush  from  her 
the  mosquitoes  and  flies. 

Yorke  threw  himself  down  at  some  distance, 
but  he  could  see  the  exquisite  care  Kendall 
took  of  his  wife. 

After  a  time  Yorke  went  off  for  a  lonely 
walk.  When  he  returned,  he  found  Kendall 
still  patiently  watching. 

"  She  has  not  wakened  once,"  Kendall  whis- 
pered, happily,  looking  up  at  Yorke's  approach, 
"  and  she  has  been  having  happy  dreams,  for 
she  has  been  smiling." 

Loys  stirred,  then  opened  her  eyes.  She 
was  wide  awake  on  the  instant. 

"  How  long  have  I  been  asleep  ?  I  suppose 
I  should  be  ashamed  of  myself,  but  I  am  not. 
I  feel  like  another  person." 

It  was  after  five  when  they  reached  the  cot- 
tage and  sat  down  to  dine.  Penelope  tried  to 
prevail  upon  them  to  remain  over-night,  but  only 
succeeded  in  inducing  Mr.  Browne  to  do  so. 

After  dinner  Loys  lay  in  the  hammock  on 
the  veranda.  The  others  surrounded  her,  but 
she  did  not  enter  into  their  merry  talk.  She 


252  A    HOUSE   OF    CARDS. 

was  aware  that  Van  Arsdale  was  speaking  a 
great  deal,  and  she  appreciated  the  effort  he 
was  making  to  create  a  favorable  impression 
upon  Penelope's  friends.  She  did  not  doubt 
the  happiness  of  Penelope's  future,  —  the  world 
might  believe  that  her  years  of  waiting  were 
not  justified  in  him,  but  the  thought  would 
never  occur  to  Penelope,  who  had  always  freely 
given  more  than  she  could  ever  hope  to  receive. 

The  warm,  sweet-scented  night-air  recalled 
to  Loys  those  peaceful  evenings  Penelope  and 
she  had  spent  at  the  cottage  the  summer  before. 
She  now  looked  back  upon  those  months  as 
the  happiest  she  had  ever  known.  The  future 
had  stretched  bright  before  her,  and  now  — 

She  would  not  think,  when  thinking  could 
lead  only  to  madness.  Why,  she  demanded, 
impatiently,  why  could  she  not  deceive  herself 
as  well  as  others?  Kendall's  laugh  broke  on 
the  air,  and  she  wondered  angrily  why  she 
could  not  also  adopt  his  brazen  indifference 
to  consequences.  A  second  later  she  was 
conscious  of  her  own  inconsistency.  She  was 
thankful  that  he  was  not  haunted  by  any 
thought  of  the  sword  suspended  above  him. 
In  his  oblivion  lay  his  safety.  If  his  days  were 
poisoned  as  hers  by  the  ever-living  fear  — 


A    HOUSE   OF   CARDS.  253 

The  laughter  of  the  others  reached  her,  and 
she  wished  she  could  be  as  easily  moved  to 
laughter  again.  And  yet  she  was  young ;  she 
was  not  yet  twenty-seven,  —  almost  a  year 
younger  than  Penelope.  And  she  might  live 
to  be  fifty  or  more. 

"  Get  up,  lazy  one,"  commanded  Penelope. 
"  Since  you  persist  in  going,  it  is  time  you 
prepared." 

The  train  was  almost  empty.  Opposite  them 
sat  a  husband  and  wife,  with  a  child  of  some 
four  or  five  years  of  age.  The  child  was  frac- 
tious from  sleepiness,  and  when  the  mother 
refused  to  allow  her  to  hold  her  head  out  of 
the  window,  the  little  one  set  her  teeth  and 
began  to  scream. 

"You  are  to  stop  that  this  moment,"  ordered 
the  mother,  shaking  the  child  angrily  to  and 
fro.  "  I  '11  teach  you  to  show  such  a  temper." 

Moved  as  she  was  to  pity  the  baby,  Loys  her- 
self could  hardly  restrain  a  smile  at  the  ludi- 
crousness  of  the  scene. 

"  I  am  surprised  that  you  do  not  offer  to 
soothe  the  child  for  her,"  mocked  Kendall,  in 
French. 

"  I  do  not  like  children,  promiscuously,"  Loys 
replied,  simply.  "They  must  be  sweet  and 


254  A    HOUSE   OF   CARDS. 

clean,  or  pretty,  or  clever.  Poor  little  thing," 
she  added,  as  the  mother  continued  to  scold. 

She  was  glad  to  escape  the  child  when  they 
went  on  the  ferry.  Kendall  stood  on  the  deck 
after  the  others  were  seated. 

"  Come  for  a  walk,  Van  Arsdale,"  he  urged. 
"  I  have  not  fairly  stretched  my  legs  to-day, 
and  I  might  as  well  lay  the  status  of  that  San 
Jose"  matter  before  you  now." 

They  lighted  their  cigars  and  started  off, 
leaving  Loys  and  Yorke  together. 

In  the  cabin  a  harpist  and  violinist  were 
strumming  out  the  popular  music  of  the  day. 

"  How  do  you  contrive  to  get  along  without 
the  song  of  'the  girl  next  door'?"  asked 
Yorke. 

"  Did  you  not  know  that  they  rented  the 
house  on  the  other  side  of  us?  I  thought  you 
knew,  for  Penelope  made  quite  a  jest  of  it. 
They  did  not  own  the  other  property,  so  there 
was  no  need  for  them  to  wait  until  it  was  re- 
built. When  they  took  the  house  adjoining 
our  present  location  it  seemed  as  if  we  could 
not  escape  the  song.  But  I  am  glad  that  we 
shall  miss  it  soon ;  we  are  to  return  to  our  own 
house  in  a  short  while  now.  Do  you  know,  the 
song  has  grown  sadder  than  ever." 


A   HOUSE   OF   CARDS.  255 

The  musicians  had  wandered  into  "  Mignon," 
and  Yorke  began  to  hum,  "  Connais-tu  le  pays," 
but  the  words  faded  away  on  his  lips,  and  he 
looked  over  the  motionless,  moon-lit  waters, 
all  the  unrest  of  the  day  dying  out  under  the 
calm  beauty  of  the  night. 

The  boat  seemed  to  be  scarcely  moving 
through  the  silvered  waters,  in  which  the  stars 
were  mirrored,  and  even  the  wheezing  of  the 
violin  could  not  drown  the  beauty  of  the  music. 

Yorke  was  facing  Loys,  who  had  half- turned 
to  look  back  over  the  bay.  As  the  last  note 
died  away,  their  eyes  met,  and  their  hearts 
were  laid  bare  to  each  other.  Her  breath 
quickened,  but  she  made  no  attempt  to  escape 
the  warmth  of  his  gaze.  He  bent  his  head. 
His  lips  had  already  framed  themselves  into 
the  word  '  Loys,'  when  Van  Arsdale's  voice 
broke  harshly  upon  the  air. 

"Do  you  wish  to  be  left  here  all  night?" 
he  demanded,  standing  at  some  little  distance 
from  them.  "We  have  landed." 

"You  are  almost  asleep,  Loys,"  laughed 
Kendall,  taking  her  arm. 

She  stood  up,  looking  about  her  vaguely. 
An  instant  later  she  studied  Van  Arsdale  in 
breathless  suspense.  He  had  noted  nothing : 


256  A   HOUSE   OF   CARDS. 

his  face  was  as  blank  and  expressionless  as 
ever. 

Yorke  said  good-night  at  the  wharf,  but  Van 
Arsdale  accompanied  them  to  the  cars,  where 
he  also  left  them. 

Kendall  and  Loys  sat  on  the  dummy. 

"  You  are  going  to  sleep  well  to-night,"  he 
said.  "  This  day  in  the  open  air  has  done  you 
a  world  of  good.  Next  Friday  we  shall  go  to 
Del  Monte,  and  we  shall  see  if  there  is  not 
some  one  there  who  can  induce  you  to  remain 
a  week  or  two." 

"  Gregory,  can  you  not  leave  now  ?  We 
would  go  away,  just  you  and  I,  on  a  sea-trip 
to  Alaska  or  Honolulu." 

"  It  is  impossible,"  he  decided.  "  I  wish  I 
could,  dearest,  for  I  feel  you  need  the  change ; 
but  it  is  altogether  impossible  for  me  to  go 
now." 

"  It  is  not  impossible,"  she  protested,  with 
almost  hysterical  insistence.  "  Nothing  is  im- 
possible. I  do  not  make  many  requests,  so 
you  should  not  refuse  me  this  one.  Take  me 
away,"  she  continued,  in  the  suasive  tones  she 
could  so  well  employ.  "  You  will  find  me  the 
merriest  companion.  You  will  see  how  changed 
I  shall  be  as  soon  as  we  are  away  from  here. 
Will  you  not  take  me  away?  " 


A   HOUSE   OF   CARDS.  257 

Kendall  did,  indeed,  find  it  difficult  to  refuse 
her.  She  was  irresistible  as  she  leaned  lightly 
forward,  her  dark  eyes  pleading  for  her  with  all 
their  practised  skill.  » 

"  You  make  me  feel  myself  a  brute,"  he  said, 
"  for  I  cannot  get  away  now.  My  darling,  do 
you  not  see  how  hard  it  is  for  me  to  refuse 
you?  Do  you  not  know  what  those  weeks 
would  be  to  me?  Here  I  have  to  divide  you 
with  so  many.  I  never  seem  to  have  a  moment 
with  you  alone.  But  you  who  are  always  so 
reasonable,  you  must  see  that  it  is  out  of  the 
question  for  me  to  leave  now." 

"  Mother  is  coming  to  town  to-morrow.  I 
may  go  home  with  her." 

His  eyes  widened  in  surprise.  Since  her 
marriage  she  had  gone  to  the  farm  only  four 
or  five  times,  and  then  for  but  brief  stays. 
She  had  grown  more  tolerant  of  her  father's 
intolerance,  but  she  was  always  glad  to  escape 
from  the  narrowness  of  the  farm  life.  Her 
father  had  made  her  several  visits  of  short 
duration.  He  was  proud  of  her  success,  and 
pleased  her  by  his  rough  praise,  but  he  was  un- 
comfortable away  from  the  routine  of  the  farm. 

"You  will  stay  only  two  or  three  days," 
Kendall  hazarded.  "  Even  if  not  before,  I 
17 


258  A   HOUSE   OF   CARDS. 

think  I  can  leave  in  November,  and  then  we 
shall  go  to  the  Islands,  or  even  Japan,  if  you 
wish." 

"  November  is  a  long  way  off,  —  almost  four 
months.  What  cannot  happen  in  four  months  ! 
Who  knows  ?  I  may  have  taken  the  '  leap  into 
obscurity.'  " 

"  I  wish  you  would  stop  that  senseless  talk," 
he  said,  harshly.  "  One  would  think  you  took 
pleasure  in  the  thought  of  death." 

She  did  not  answer.  She  remembered  that 
long  ago,  before  their  marriage,  she  had  once 
told  him  that  death,  to  her,  seemed  a  promise 
of  peace.  To-night  she  knew  it  to  be  the  only 
peace  she  would  ever  gain.  She  stretched  out 
her  hands  to  it  in  passionate  longing.  She 
would  lie  at  rest,  all  her  fetters  fallen  from  her, 
free  from  the  feeling  of  miserable  shame  which 
now  enveloped  her.  What  a  blessed  relief  it 
would  be  no  longer  to  have  to  pretend  to  be 
happy  when  her  heart  was  heavy  with  its  own 
shame,  when  — 

"Come,  Loys,"  Kendall's  voice  broke  in. 
"Here  we  are  at  our  own  door." 


Chapter  XX. 

|ORKE  waited  as  Van  Arsdale  paused  in 
the  shelter  of  a  doorway  to  light  the 
cigar,  which,  in  the  warmth  of  his  conversation, 
he  had  permitted  to  die  out. 

"  And  so,"  Van  Arsdale  proceeded,  after  a 
luxurious  moment  of  communion  with  his  cigar, 
"  and  so,  if  I  were  you,  I  should  not  wait  until 
September  to  go  on.  Mclvors  is  well  able  to 
manage  your  affairs  :  he  is  a  man  of  fine  execu- 
tive ability  and  thoroughly  reliable.  Why  not 
go  to  New  York  this  month,  and  then  continue 
on  to  England?  San  Francisco  is  very  well  for 
a  man  of  affairs,  and  a  very  Paradise  for  people 
of  limited  means ;  but,  after  all,  one  merely 
exists  here.  You  miss  the  atmosphere  to  which 
you  have  been  accustomed,  and  that  last 
article  of  yours  shows  it." 

Yorke  smiled  grimly.  "  It  so  happened  that 
it  was  written  in  Paris." 

"Is  it  possible ?"  Van  Arsdale  queried,  not 
at  all  disconcerted.  "  Well,  I  suppose  you  will 


260  A   HOUSE   OF   CARDS. 

start  for  New  York,  then,  some  time  next 
week." 

"  I  do  not  know  when  I  shall  go,"  Yorke 
returned,  coldly.  He  suddenly  realized  that  it 
was  time  he  left  if  Van  Arsdale  could  bring 
himself  to  prompt  the  step. 

Van  Arsdale  ventured  no  further  remark.  He 
threw  away  his  cigar,  pausing  before  the  Ken- 
dalls' door. 

"  Penelope  is  with  Mrs.  Kendall  and  Mrs. 
Yerrington.  Kendall  is  at  San  Jose1,  trying  that 
suit.  Coming  in  with  me  ?  " 

Yorke  rapidly  decided  to  enter.  It  was  two 
days  since  they  had  parted  at  the  wharf,  and  he 
recognized  that  it  would  be  well  to  have  their 
meeting  take  place  before  others. 

"  I  am  not  glad  to  see  you,  for  I  know  you 
have  come  to  take  Penelope  away,"  Loys  said 
to  Van  Arsdale.  "  And  you,"  she  went  on  to 
Yorke,  "  you  have  come  to  see  my  mother,  not 
me." 

"We  have  been  speaking  of  Trent's  good- 
fortune,"  Penelope  observed,  after  a  time. 
"  How  much  easier  it  would  have  been  for  him 
had  he  only  been  granted  a  peep  into  the 
future  !  It  is  much  easier  to  keep  up  one's 
courage  in  the  struggle  if  only  assured  of  ulti- 
mate success." 


A   HOUSE  OF   CARDS.  261 

"  Perhaps  he  did  consult  a  clairvoyant,"  sug- 
gested Van  Arsdale,  gravely.  "  I  have  heard 
that  you  go  to  certain  mediums,  and  they 
liberally  give  you  a  number  in  the  lottery  which 
will  certainly  bring  you  the  capital  prize,  yet 
they  themselves  are  content  to  abide  in  deso- 
late poverty.  Just  as  the  '  beauty  doctors ' 
promise  you  women  wondrous  beauty  if  you 
only  entrust  yourselves  to  their  hands,  yet  neg- 
lect to  beautify  themselves." 

"  You  will  not  mock  at  clairvoyancy  when 
you  hear  Mrs.  Kendall's  experience,"  warned 
Penelope.  "  Loys,  tell  them  what  Mrs.  Wills 
told  you,  —  at  least  as  much  as  you  told  me." 

"  You  did  not  go  to  a  fortune-teller,  did 
you?"  demanded  Mrs.  Yerrington,  fearfully. 
"  Oh,  I  am  sorry  you  went.  It  always  seems  to 
me  that  one  gets  punished  for  trying  to  know." 

"  So  I  did ;  I  am  sorry  I  did  gratify  my  un- 
holy curiosity,"  Loys  granted,  a  furrow  of  pain 
crossing  her  brow.  "  It  was  rather  a  peculiar  ex- 
perience, —  my  visit  to  Mrs.  Wills.  I  first  heard 
of  her  through  two  of  the  girls  at  the  school, 
who  were  planning  to  go  to  see  her.  Of  course, 
I  prevented  their  going,  but  I  went  in  their  stead. 
She  made  no  pretension  to  being  a  spiritualistic 
medium;  she  merely  professed  to  have  culti- 


262  A    HOUSE   OF   CARDS. 

vated  her  powers  of  insight.  I  went  to  her 
that  day  filled  with  one  thought ;  but  almost  as 
soon  as  she  took  my  hands  in  hers  she  told  me 
that  I  had  two  sisters,  both  younger  than  myself, 
and  she  also  foretold  Laura's  marriage  in  De- 
cember, which  took  place." 

"  That  might  be  reasonably  accounted  for 
under  the  head  of  mind  or  muscle  reading," 
remarked  Yorke. 

"  But  I  was  not  thinking  of  my  sisters,"  Loys 
objected.  "  As  usual,  I  was  thinking  of  myself." 

"  Still,  they  might  unconsciously  have  been 
in  your  mind." 

"  Perhaps.  She  also  told  me  your  name, 
mother." 

Although  Van  Arsdale  had  scoffed  at  the 
whole  idea,  he  listened  with  unwaning  interest, 
as  did  Yorke ;  but  Mrs.  Yerrington  hung  upon 
Loys's  words  with  breathless  impatience. 

"  Then  she  told  me  my  occupation.  I  have 
often  tried  to  account  for  that  on  the  pre- 
sumption that  she  was  a  sort  of  female  Sher- 
lock Holmes,  but  I  was  exceedingly  well- 
gowned  that  day  ;  I  had  no  blot  of  ink  on  my 
hands,  nor  did  my  face  wear  the  worried  ex- 
pression a  teacher's  is  supposed  to  have.  She 
also  knew  that  I  had  written  a  book,  but  said 


A   HOUSE   OF   CARDS.  263 

I  was  too  young  at  the  time  of  writing  it.  She 
predicted  success  for  me  if  I  wrote  another,  yet 
advised  me  not  to  use  my  eyes  at  night.  I 
began  to  work  on  the  story  at  night,  and  my 
eyes  rebelled.  Of  course  I  cannot  tell  you  all 
that  she  foresaw,  but  it  was  astoundingly  true." 

They  dared  not  question  her  further,  although 
stirred  by  a  violent  desire  to  know  how  far  she 
had  been  warned  of  the  future  in  store  for  her. 

"  If  you  are  expecting  those  people,  Penelope, 
it  is  time  you  went  home,"  prompted  Van 
Arsdale. 

"Is  that  clock  right?  I  am  sure  they  are 
there  already.  I  would  much  rather  stay  here  than 
entertain  them,"  Penelope  confessed,  hospitably. 

When  Loys  returned  to  the  room,  after  see- 
ing Penelope  and  Van  Arsdale  to  the  door,  she 
found  that  Yorke  had  risen  to  go. 

"  You  made  a  grave  mistake  in  relating  your 
experience  before  Mrs.  Yerrington,"  he  said. 
"  She  is  certain  that  you  were  told  of  some 
trouble  in  store  for  you,  and  that  the  thought 
of  it  is  tormenting  you." 

"  Really,  mother  ?  I  shall  tell  you  two  a 
little  secret.  I  did  not  mention  it  before  be- 
cause Mr.  Van  Arsdale's  incredulity  irritated 
me.  Mrs.  Wills  did  make  one  or  two  mistakes. 


264  A   HOUSE   OF   CARDS. 

It  is  true  she  told  me  your  name,  mother,  at 
once,  but  she  was  extremely  puzzled  over 
father's,  although  she  finally  gave  it  to  me. 
She  closed  her  eyes,  so,"  she  went  on,  suiting 
the  action  to  her  words,  "  and  frowned,  mur- 
muring, '  Who  is  this  man  I  see,  whose  name 
begins  with  a  J  ?  It  is  your  father.  J,  J  —  It 
escapes  me.' " 

Loys  slowly  opened  her  eyes,  and  confronted 
her  mother,  who  had  risen  from  her  chair. 

There  was  a  deathly  stillness  as  the  two 
women  faced  each  other.  Loys  drew  a  dry, 
gasping  breath,  and  grasped  the  back  of  a 
chair  to  steady  herself. 

"  I  must  go,"  said  Yorke.  "  Do  not  trouble 
to  see  me  out.  I  know  the  way." 

But  Loys  followed  him  into  the  hall,  closing 
the  door  upon  her  mother. 

"You  must  be  lonesome  without  Gregory," 
Yorke  went  on.  "  I  suppose,  however,  that  he 
will  be  away  only  a  few  days.  Good-night." 

But  he  did  not  go.  He  stood  looking  down 
at  her  set  face.  He  could  not  go  away  and 
leave  her  thus.  He  was  swayed  by  a  consum- 
ing desire  to  bear  her  away  from  those  who  had 
heaped  one  burden  after  the  other  upon  her 
young  shoulders.  It  did  not  occur  to  him  at 


A   HOUSE   OF   CARDS.  265 

that  moment  that  he  was  thinking  of  adding  to 
her  troubles  the  weightiest  one  under  which 
woman  ever  staggered.  He  remembered  only 
that  they  loved  each  othert 

"  I  am  sure  you  always  add  a  postscript  to 
your  letters,"  she  ventured,  opening  the  house- 
door.  She  tried  to  smile,  but  the  smile  became 
a  moan. 

"  Go  ;  for  mercy's  sake,  go." 

She  had  forced  upon  him  the  fact  that  he 
had  no  right  to  console  her,  and  he  left  her. 

She  stood  leaning  against  the  door.  She  was 
suffocated  by  the  tumultuous  beating  of  her 
heart. 

"  It  cannot  be  so.  I  will  not  have  it  so," 
she  insisted,  passionately.  "  She  shall  tell  me 
nothing,  nothing." 

At  length  she  groped  her  way  back  to  the 
room,  and  noiselessly  opened  the  door. 

Mrs.  Yerrington  was  sitting  erect  in  her 
chair,  her  eyes  looking  unseeingly  at  the 
opposite  wall. 

Loys  stole  nearer  and  placed  her  hand  upon 
her  mother's  arm. 

"  Come,  dear,  let  us  go  to  bed,"  she  urged. 

Mrs.  Yerrington  turned,  looking  into  Loys's 
eyes,  which  petitioned  silence. 


266  A   HOUSE   OF   CARDS. 

"What  a  great  deal  you  have  to  forgive 
your  mother,"  she  murmured.  "  You  cannot 
understand,  for  you  are  a  happy  wife,  and  I  was 
never  strong  like  you,  dear.  But  I  '11  not  say 
I  am  sorry,"  she  continued,  fiercely.  "  Do  you 
hear,  I  was  happy  once  for  a  brief  while.  I 
have  paid  for  it,  oh,  I  have  paid  for  it !  You, 
you  cannot  know  what  I  have  suffered.  Loys, 
Loys,  my  child,  my  only  one,  do  not  say  you 
cannot  forgive  me." 


Chapter  XXI. 


JJND  so  it  came  home  to  Bishop  Yorke 
that  he  had  been  looking  with  distorted 
eyes  at  right  and  wrong ;  and  when  he  awoke  to 
a  sense  of  the  right  he  was  brave  enough  to 
follow  it,  though  all  his  passions  mocked  at 
him.  He  would  go  away,  and  at  once ;  by  so 
doing  he  would  serve  Loys  best  and  prove  the 
unselfishness  of  his  love. 

There  came  back  to  him  some  words  she 
had  said  only  a  few  weeks  before.  He  had 
mentioned  some  social  duty  he  owed  which  he 
felt  it  irksome  to  pay,  and  she  had  laughed : 
"  Happiness  does  not  always  lie  through  duty's 
door,  does  it?" 

"It  certainly  does  not  this  time,  so  I  shall 
forego  the  duty,"  he  had  replied,  easily.  "  For 
there  is  the  duty  we  owe  ourselves  to  be  happy, 
is  there  not?  "  he  had  asked,  growing  grave. 

There  had  been  a  short  pause  before  she 
answered.  "  I  have  thought  so,  too,  in  rebel- 


268  A    HOUSE   OF   CARDS. 

lious  moments,  when  my  reason  was  beclouded 
and  I  juggled  with  my  conscience.  But,  after 
all,  we  have  both  lived  long  enough  to  know 
that  the  duty  we  owe  ourselves  is  to  be  true  to 
our  higher  selves." 

"Even  at  the  cost  of  happiness?"  he  had 
urged,  holding  her  with  his  eyes. 

"  Yes,  even  so,"  she  had  said,  unflinchingly. 

His  will  must  acquiesce  with  her  stronger 
one,  and  he  must  leave  her  to  fulfil  her  own 
ideas  of  duty.  For  himself,  he  confessed  he 
was  too  weak  to  stay  to  watch  the  effort  he 
knew  was  a  living  torment  to  her.  Were  he  to 
stay,  the  hour  would  surely  come  when  he  would 
speak,  though  knowing  full  well  the  only  out- 
come of  it. 

Yet  at  times  during  that  night  of  preparation 
he  shrank  from  the  thought  of  departure,  so  full 
of  his  great  need  of  her  he  almost  convinced 
himself  that  he  had  the  right  to  persuade  her  it 
would  be  better  for  them  to  be  miserable  to- 
gether than  apart.  Almost,  but  not  quite  ;  for 
though  for  months  she  had  been  in  his  thoughts 
night  and  day,  she  had  always  been  peculiarly 
aloof  from  him  in  a  way,  despite  the  note  of 
appeal  in  her  eyes,  which  had  never  died  out 
since  the  night  he  had  brought  her  home,  and 


A    HOUSE   OF    CARDS.  269 

which  seemed  to  tell  him  she  relied  upon  him 
to  be  strong  for  her  sake. 

The  draughts  he  had  drawn  upon  his  strength 
were  visible  to  Penelope  Browning's  eyes  when 
he  called  upon  her  the  following  night. 

"  Of  course,  as  you  have  fully  determined  to 
go,  there  is  nothing  more  to  be  said,"  Penelope 
remarked.  "  You  always  did  do  exactly  what 
you  wished.  We  shall  miss  you  sadly,  as  you 
must  know.  But  you  will  probably  be  in  New 
York  when  we  arrive  there.  When  are  you 
going  to  say  *  Good-by  '  to  Mrs.  Kendall  ?  To- 
night or  to-morrow?"  There  was  a  note  of 
anxiety  in  her  voice  that  she  could  not  entirely 
subdue. 

"  I  suppose  to-night,"  Yorke  returned,  after 
a  moment's  pause. 

"  If  she  had  not  suddenly  altered  her  plans, 
she  would  not  be  home  to-night.  All  along 
she  intended  to  return  with  her  mother;  but 
although  Mrs.  Yerrington  went  home  this  morn- 
ing, Loys  did  not  accompany  her.  I  was  over 
twice  to-day,  but  each  time  the  maid  said  Loys 
was  asleep,  having  suffered  all  night  from  a 
headache.  She  expects  Gregory  home  this 
evening." 

She  arose  in  nervous  haste  and  walked  to 


270  A   HOUSE   OF   CARDS. 

the  window,  looking  across  the  lawn  to  Leys' s 
sitting-room. 

"She  must  be  better,  for  she  is  sitting  by  the 
window.  I  wonder  what  she  has  in  her  arms," 
she  murmured. 

Yorke  arose. 

"  I  think  I  shall  go  with  you,"  said  Van 
Arsdale. 

Yorke  looked  at  him  with  protesting  eyes, 
but  offered  no  objection. 

"  I  shall  not  bid  you  good-by  now,"  said 
Penelope.  "With  Riker,  I  shall  see  you  off." 

"  I  do  not  know  that  I  shall  go  to  Mrs.  Ken- 
dall's after  all,"  Yorke  declared,  hesitating  when 
he  found  himself  in  the  street. 

"  You  will  be  busy  to-morrow.     Come." 

They  mounted  the  steps  and  touched  the 
bell.  A  moment  later  they  were  in  the  living- 
room.  Loys  was  in  a  half-reclining  attitude  on 
the  couch,  which  stood  before  the  open  window, 
and  was  embroidering  a  napkin.  Upon  the  table 
beside  her  lay  a  beautiful  doll,  arrayed  in  long 
baby  clothes. 

"  Are  you  not  afraid  Minerva  will  make  you 
share  Arachne's  fate  ?  "  questioned  Van  Arsdale, 
restraining  an  exclamation  of  surprise  at  her 
appearance. 


A   HOUSE   OF   CARDS.  271 

Great  purple  shadows  outlined  her  eyes,  and 
her  face  was  colorless  save  for  the  unnatural 
brilliancy  of  the  lips. 

"  I  only  embroider ;  I  never  weave  —  even 
spells,"  she  answered,  ii>  a  languid  voice,  con- 
tinuing her  work. 

"  You  are  not  well,"  exclaimed  Yorke. 

"  I  am  quite  well  now,  but  I  have  suffered 
to-day,"  she  allowed. 

"  I  see  Baby  Blue  Eyes  must  have  been  visit- 
ing you,"  Yorke  said,  taking  up  the  doll,  but 
still  standing  over  her,  scrutinizing  her  with 
anxious  eyes. 

"I  sent  for  her  to  dine  with  me.  She  is 
already  faithless  to  your  doll.  She  informed 
me  that  she  wants  a  real  meat  baby.  But  in 
default  of  that  she  was  satisfied  to  take  one  of 
our  birds.  We  had  always  called  him  '  Dickey 
Bird,'  but  she  asked  me  what  Dickey  stood  for, 
and  began  to  address  the  canary  as  Richard 
Bird.  She  told  me  it  would  suit  him  better 
when  he  was  grown  up." 

"  I  suppose  that  occurred  to  her  on  account 
of  Mrs.  Underhill's  insisting  upon  our  calling 
the  little  fellow  Frederic,"  said  Van  Arsdale. 
"  There  will  be  at  least  one  small  person  who 
will  miss  you,  Yorke." 


272  A   HOUSE   OF   CARDS. 

"  I  have  concluded  to  hasten  my  plans 
somewhat,"  explained  Yorke,  as  Loys  raised  her 
startled  eyes  from  her  work.  "  I  start  for  New 
York  to-morrow.  From  there  I  expect  to  con- 
tinue on  to  London." 

Loys  leaned  down  to  pick  up  the  floss  she 
had  let  fall  to  the  ground,  wondering  if  she 
had  suffered  so  much  that  she  could  feel  noth- 
ing more,  for  the  news  gave  her  nothing  but  a 
slight  feeling  of  relief.  She  made  a  stitch  or 
two  in  silence. 

"  The  news  is  so  very  sudden,"  she  finally 
affirmed,  in  a  level  voice,  working  with  deter- 
mined industry,  "that  I  have  ready  no  little 
speech.  Yet  even  without  it,  I  think  you  will 
know  how  much  we  shall  miss  you." 

"You  are  very  kind,"  he  rejoined,  haltingly. 
His  throat  was  so  parched  that  his  voice  sounded 
muffled  and  discordant,  and  the  evenness  of 
her  words  hurt  him.  He  almost  succeeded  in 
convincing  himself  that  it  was  nothing  to  her 
whether  he  went  or  stayed. 

"  You  and  Penelope  will  have  little  time  to 
miss  anyone  from  now  until  after  the  wedding," 
reminded  Van  Arsdale.  "  And  by  the  time  we 
are  fairly  off,  and  you  are  once  again  settled  in 
your  own  home,  you  and  Kendall  will  be  start- 
ing off  for  Japan." 


A    HOUSE  OF   CARDS.  273 

"Oh,  yes, we  shall  be  very  busy,"  she  agreed, 
keeping  her  eyes  steadily  upon  the  napkin,  in 
which  every  now  and  then  she  made  a  few 
stitches  in  fitful  haste;  again  her  hand  would 
remain  motionless,  as  though  she  had  not  the 
strength  to  continue  working.  She  was  sur- 
prised that  they  did  not  exclaim  at  the  noise 
her  heart  had  again  begun  to  make.  It  seemed 
to  drown  her  own  voice. 

"  And  I  hear  your  book  will  be  on  the 
market  in  time  for  the  fall  trade,"  Van  Arsdale 
continued,  angered  by  Yorke's  silence.  "  Pen- 
elope was  telling  us  of  the  letter  you  received 
from  your  publishers.  You  must  be  very  much 
elated." 

"  Letter?  "  she  repeated,  dazedly.  "  Oh,  yes, 
the  letter.  So  in  October  I  shall  figure  before 
the  public  again,  and  dear  old  Mr.  Knight  will 
read  the  book  because  I  wrote  it ;  and  though 
he  never  reads  any  novels  but  mine,  he  will 
expect  me  to  be  properly  dejected  when  he 
points  out  the  weak  portions  of  the  story." 

Her  heart  was  now  leaping  with  sickening 
rapidity.  She  wondered  if  Van  Arsdale  was 
duly  appreciating  her  composure.  She  sat 
back,  as  it  were,  in  her  chair,  and  admired  the 
naturalness  of  her  own  performance. 
1 8 


274  A   HOUSE   OF   CARDS. 

She  felt  a  mad  inclination  to  laugh  at  Yorke 
as  he  sat  with  his  eyes  bent  relentlessly  upon 
her,  while  he  hopelessly  tangled  the  doll's  hair 
with  his  large  hand. 

"  I  can  see  from  the  toilet  you  have  made 
that  you  are  expecting  Kendall,"  Van  Arsdale 
said,  now  utterly  at  a  loss  for  words.  "Do 
you  remember  confiding  to  us  once  that  you 
always  took  special  pains  with  yourself  for  his 
home-comings?" 

For  the  first  time  she  noticed  that  she  was 
darning  the  monogram  instead  of  embroider- 
ing it. 

"  Did  I?  "  she  asked,  laughing  slightly  at  her 
discovery,  and  looking  down  at  her  white  gown. 
"  Well,  I  do.  But  you  must  never  let  him  into 
the  secret." 

"  Let  us  run  away  before  he  comes,  Yorke," 
suggested  Van  Arsdale,  "  else  we  may  be  tempted 
into  telling." 

She  put  down  the  napkin  as  Yorke  slowly 
arose. 

The  voices  of  some  children  who  were  play- 
ing in  the  street  floated  in  at  the  open  window. 
"  King's-ex,"  one  cried. 

She  wished  she,  too,  could  cross  her  fingers 
and  give  the  old  childish  cry.  She  needed  a 


A   HOUSE   OF   CARDS.  275 

momentary  pause  in  which  to  recuperate  her 
strength. 

"'Good-by '  is  never  an  easy  word  to  say," 
said  Van  Arsdale,  now  seriously  angry  at  Yorke's 
continued  silence. 

"  You  need  not  say  it  here.  You  know  I 
shall  accompany  you  to  the  door.  Perhaps  the 
next  time  you  come,  I  shall  have  set  up  a 
footman." 

"I  am  afraid  we  shall  have  to  journey  to 
Europe  if  we  wish  to  see  Yorke,"  asserted  Van 
Arsdale.  "He  holds  out  no  hope  of  coming 
here  for  a  long  time." 

"  No ;  I  shall  probably  not  return  to  San 
Francisco  in  many  years,"  Yorke  at  length  said, 
in  a  stifled  voice. 

Loys's  eyes  dilated.  She  tried  to  speak,  but 
only  succeeded  in  giving  an  unsteady  little  laugh. 
She  saw  that  Van  Arsdale  was  anxious  to  get 
Yorke  away,  but  she  did  not  attempt  to  aid  him. 
No  one  need  be  jealous  of  these  few  last 
moments. 

She  was  dimly  conscious  of  the  fact  that 
Yorke's  hand  had  tightened  about  her  own  until 
her  rings  were  cutting  into  the  flesh,  and  that 
his  speech  was  broken.  She  could  see  his  lips 
moving  stiffly,  but  there  was  such  a  surging  in 


276  A   HOUSE   OF   CARDS. 

her  ears  that  his  words  did  not  reach  her.  If 
only  the  hammering  of  her  heart  would  cease, 
that  she  might  hear  his  last  words  ! 

Van  Arsdale  opened  the  door,  and  Yorke 
released  her  hand.  Then  he  took  it  again,  and 
drew  it  to  his  lips.  She  suffered  the  kiss  in 
silence.  If  she  could  but  think  of  something 
to  say,  something  to  keep  him  there  a  few 
moments  longer ! 

Yorke  continued  to  stand  over  her  until 
Van  Arsdale  slipped  his  arm  through  his  and 
led  him  down'  the  stairs.  At  the  corner  of 
the  street  Yorke  flung  aside  Van  Arsdale's 
hand. 

"  I  must  see  her  again,"  he  muttered.  "  I 
am  going  back." 

"Are  you  mad?  Have  you  not  brought  her 
suffering  enough  ?  "  asked  Van  Arsdale,  sternly. 

Loys  had  closed  the  door  and  blindly  fought 
her  way  back  to  the  room. 

She  resumed  her  seat  by  the  window,  but  did 
not  take  up  her  work. 

She  looked  over  at  the  chair  Yorke  had  occu- 
pied, and  saw  his  hand  again  caressing  the  doll's 
hair.  She  had  not  trusted  herself  to  look  at  his 
face.  It  was  stupid  not  to  have  taken  a  last 
look,  to  endure  through  the  years,  —  one  last 


A   HOUSE   OF   CARDS.  277 

look  at  the  man  to  whom  love  had  not  meant  a 
selfish  awakening  to  his  own  needs. 

And  so  he  had  passed  out  of  her  life,  and,  as 
she  had  always  known,  at  least  one  part  of  Mrs. 
Wills's  prophecy  was  not  to  be  fulfilled  to  the 
bitter  end.  There  was  to  be  no  tragedy,  after 
all.  She  would  simply  go  on  trying  to  satisfy 
Gregory,  taking  an  interest  in  her  gowns  and 
her  charities  and  her  writing,  and,  after  a  while, 
perhaps  her  heart  would  cease  to  weigh  so 
heavily. 

She  could  not  see  the  clock  from  where  she 
sat,  but  she  feared  it  must  be  time  for  Gregory's 
arrival.  He  must  not  come  yet,  not  just  yet ! 
He  must  wait  until  she  felt  a  little  stronger,  a 
little  more  able  to  raise  her  face  for  his  kisses. 

She  would  light  the  spirit-lamp  and  have  the 
water  boiling  to  make  the  tea. 

Life  seemed  to  be  made  up  of  nothing  but 
eating  and  drinking.  She  wondered  what 
Gregory  would  say  if,  for  once,  she  neglected 
the  little  attentions  to  which  she  had  accus- 
tomed him.  Penelope  always  said  she  spoiled 
him. 

But  she  would  not  begin  to  neglect  her  duties 
now ;  she  was  glad  to  think  of  them,  —  it  brought 
a  sense  of  safety  to  think  that  thus  far  she  had 


278  A    HOUSE   OF   CARDS. 

not  slighted  them.  She  would  light  the  lamp 
in  a  few  moments,  when  the  pain  in  her  breast 
had  passed.  No  one  must  know  how  weary 
she  was,  how  weary  she  had  been  for  the  past 
months.  It  was  restful  there,  in  the  shadowy 
quiet  of  the  window,  listening  to  the  song  of  the 
girl  next  door.  It  was  a  sad  song,  but  all  mu- 
sic sounded  sad  at  night.  She  would  not  com- 
plain because  that  song  was  more  heart-breaking 
than  any  other.  It  was  strange  that  Bishop 
Yorke  had  not  known  the  name  of  the  song. 
Perhaps,  some  day,  when  in  Milan  or  Paris,  he 
would  hear  the  music  again,  and  it  would  recall 
the  evenings  spent  in  their  — 

And  so  he  was  going  away.  After  a  while 
she  would  grow  more  accustomed  to  the  thought. 
It  would  grow  painfully  familiar,  but  just  now 
it  did  not  seem  that  it  could  be  true.  Never 
to  see  him  again  !  She  pressed  her  hand  to 
her  mouth  as  though  to  restrain  a  cry.  If  he 
would  return  just  for  a  moment,  and  — 

Suddenly  the  walls  of  the  room  began  to 
close  in  upon  her.  She  could  not  breathe,  they 
were  pressing  so  tight.  And  then  she  became 
aware  that  Yorke's  strong  arms  were  pushing 
them  back,  and  she  was  breathing  easily  again 
and  could  hear  the  song. 


A   HOUSE   OF   CARDS.  279 

It  was  kind  of  him  to  have  returned,  she 
thought,  smiling  drowsily.  Yes,  it  was  very 
kind  of  him  to  hold  her  up  so  that  she  could 
breathe.  Her  thoughts  were  floating,  but  she 
could  still  hold  fast  to  .Jhe  remembrance  that 
he  was  kind. 

A  silvery  shaft  of  moonlight  slanted  athwart 
her  hair.  When  it  had  faded  away,  it  had 
left  her  face  imbued  with  its  own  peaceful 
splendor. 

When  Yorke  reached  the  house  a  few 
moments  later,  the  maid  was  standing  at  the 
door.  She  stepped  aside  to  admit  him. 

"  I  forgot  my  stick,"  he  explained.  "  Is  Mrs. 
Kendall  still  in  the  sitting-room?" 

He  opened  the  door,  and  closed  it  behind 
him  before  turning  to  Loys.  Then  he  perceived 
she  was  not  alone.  She  was  lying  back  upon 
the  couch,  and  at  her  side  knelt  Penelope,  her' 
face  bent  upon  Loys's  hands. 

His  bounding  pulses  were  suddenly  stilled. 
He  made  a  few  steps,  then  paused,  leaning 
heavily  against  a  chair  for  support. 

Penelope  looked  up,  then  rose,  and  walked 
to  him. 

"Come,"   she    said,  taking   his    unresisting 


280  A   HOUSE   OF   CARDS. 

hand.  "  Come,  look  at  her  as  she  lies 
asleep." 

He  followed  her  passively,  and,  in  awe,  they 
stood  looking  down  upon  the  beautiful  serenity 
of  Loys's  face.  It  was  a  peace  which  forbade 
all  tears  or  lamentations. 

Not  a  sound  issued  from  Yorke's  lips.  His 
face  had  grown  gray  and  stone-like.  Then  he 
bent  down  to  Loys,  whispering,  in  the  tone 
of  one  who  sues  for  pardon,  "  Loys,  dear 
love." 

Penelope  trembled.  If  Loys  could  have 
heard,  she  would  have  been  warmed  to  life 
by  his  voice. 

Then  Penelope  touched  his  arm. 

"Do  you  not  understand?  She  is  dead. 
From  my  window  I  watched  her  death  struggle. 
I  think  I  might  have  saved  her,  but  I  made  no 
move.  I  was  thankful  she  was  to  know  relief 
from  the  relentless  pain  she  had  undergone. 
She  had  borne  too  much.  It  was  her  heart  — 
Dr.  Haswell  told  Gregory  and  myself  last 
September;  but  if  she  had  been  happy,  she 
might  have  lived  for  years.  Do  you  hear  ?  she 
is  dead." 

She  sank  down  again  beside  Loys,  and  drew 
the  lifeless  hands  to  her  quivering  mouth. 


A   HOUSE   OF   CARDS.  281 

"Will  you  leave  me  alone  with  her  for  a  few 
moments?"  Yorke  asked,  in  the  same  strangely 
quiet  manner.  "  In  the  years  to  come  I  shall 
be  glad  of  her  dreamless  rest,  but  just  now — ' 

A  key  was  fitted  in  thejiouse-door,  and  then 
footsteps  echoed  through  the  hall. 

Kendall  had  reached  home. 


THE  END. 


PRINTED  BY  JOHN  WILSON  AND  SON 
AT  THE  UNIVERSITY  PRESS,  CAM- 
BRIDGE, U.  S.  A.,  JrOR  STONE  AND 
KIMBALL,  PUBLISHERS,  OF  CHICAGO 
M  DCCC  XCVI 


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